


Moonlight: A TwilightCrack! Hannibal AU

by LoveHonorCookie



Category: Hannibal (TV), Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: AU twilight, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Fluff and Crack, Frottage, M/M, More of a Gentle Ribbing, Not a Parody, this is only underage cause like vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-08-06 04:47:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16381694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveHonorCookie/pseuds/LoveHonorCookie
Summary: "I suppose the truth of the matter is that I have always given a great deal amount of thought to how I would die. (As a teenager from rural Louisiana with an empathy disorder who consults with the police on serial murders, it really seems like the most logical train of thought I would fixate on.)"Will Graham is a boy detective, moved from his childhood home with his Grams in NOLA to his father's home in Wolf Trap, Virginia, for his safety. But it isn't too long before danger finds him again, in the form of a beautiful- and deadly- new classmate, Hannibal Lecter. Will already knows he may not be able to save himself.But maybe that's alright.





	1. Prologue: What's Past Is

**Author's Note:**

> This is pure Halloween crack, no deeper meaner, just good old fashioned weirdo humor. I hope you enjoy Vampire!Crack Hannibal as much as I do!

I suppose the truth of the matter is that I have always given a great deal amount of thought to how I would die. (As a teenager from rural Louisiana with an empathy disorder who consults with the police on serial murders, it really seems like the most logical train of thought I would fixate on.)

But I never imagined it would be like this.

I never imagined it would be beautiful.

I heard his musical voice over my shallow, painful breathing. “No greater love hath man, than to lay down his life for a friend.“

God, he was going to be a pretentious asshole till the end, wasn’t he?

“The light of friendship,” I wheezed out, grabbing his head with all the strength left in my body, “won’t reach US for a thousand years.”

And then I crushed his lips to mine. If I was going to die, it would be with the his taste on my tongue.

I knew that if I’d never come back to Wolf Trap, I would not need decide on life or death today. But I had known going into this that I might not be able to save myself.

And maybe that was alright.

It wasn’t reasonable to get to have someone… something so beautiful, and get to keep it, too.

Maybe 17 was too young to die. But as he said, no greater love...

He pulled back from me, and I could see the tears in his eyes.

And then I felt his peculiar kiss.

And by that, I mean the motherfucker BIT me.

_“If I wake up from this,”_ I thought to myself as I felt the twin pain and pleasure building inside me,  _"There will be a reckoning."_

_"I am going to MURDER Hannibal Lecter."_


	2. First Bite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’re probably wondering, “How does a teen police consultant with an empathy disorder and a knack for the monsters end up moving from New Orleans to the middle-of-nowhere Virginia and ALSO end up in a life-or-death situation with his Lithuanian count boyfriend?”
> 
> … actually, you probably have a few other questions, too.
> 
> Let me start at the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... this turned out to be much longer than I thought it would. I hope you enjoy! #VampireHannibalFest FOR LIFE.

You’re probably wondering, “How does a teen police consultant with an empathy disorder and a knack for the monsters end up moving from New Orleans to the middle-of-nowhere Virginia and ALSO end up in a life-or-death situation with his Lithuanian count boyfriend?”

… actually, you probably have a few other questions, too.

Let me start at the beginning.

My name is Will Graham, I was born at 5:32am, July 17th, 2002, in Wolf Trap Virginia. My dad, Beau Graham, is somehow both a scowling recluse and the Police Chief of Wolf Trap. I’d never known my mother, she’d run out on dad when I was just a baby. I know he’d wanted to keep me, but he just didn’t function the same for a long time after mom left. Gram said it was no way to raise a child, in the middle of nowhere, with no one to talk to and no community, so they’d agreed I’d live with her in St. Rose, LA, which is just outside of NOLA. And Dad had stayed in Wolf Trap, which despite what our secluded house made it look like, was an actual town of 16,000. He lived on the fringes, miles away from his closest neighbor, with 7 dogs. I’d gone there every summer for 2 months as long as I could remember, and we fished, we fixed boat motors, it was heaven on earth. Honestly, I’d wanted to go to Wolf Trap for a long time, and Dad wanted me to come to, but I think we both knew it would break Gram’s heart.

That’s the Graham men for you. Always putting others first.

But Gram had done right by me, strange kid though I’d been. Always making sure I was fed, that my homework was done, and that I was only marginally tormented by the bigger and meaner boys (the girls in my class always universally adored ‘the pretty Graham boy,’, which only mortified me further.)

Things probably would have stayed that way, if I hadn’t found that dead body when I was 14, and because of my empathy disorder, wound up consulting with the NOPD.

If that sounds insane to you, imagine how it felt to me.

See, my family is probably what you would call poor. Like we were alright, there was always plenty of food, and between Grams and what dad sent I always had decent clothes and school supplies. But I had my heart set on George Washington University for college, for Criminal Justice, and good grades were what was gonna get me in, not money or connections. But savings couldn’t hurt, so I’d gotten a job as a paperboy. I mean, I couldn’t even really drive yet, it was the only option other than drugs, which was definitely more lucrative but kind of defeats the point of going into law enforcement. (That’s what I’d figured, at least. Eventually I learned differently.)

It had been early in the morning in the winter, the only time when the Louisiana heat isn’t totally oppressive (Yes, even in the winter, we have heat waves.) I had my regular houses, and one of them was the Marlow’s. I couldn’t have told you exactly why, or what, made me go in, but I knew something was wrong the minute I looked at the house. I knew I probably should have called someone. But I couldn’t stop myself, and instead of leaving the paper at the door and moving on, or calling the police and waiting, I opened the door… and the pendulum swung. 

I’ve always been a little different. Always found myself moving around people in a different way. I knew when my kindergarten teacher was getting divorced before she’d told us, by the sad way she’d play with her ring and the strange look she’d get in her eye when one of the fathers would come pick up one of the kids. In third grade, our math teacher passed unexpectedly, and I somehow knew that death had visited St. Rose just by looking at the school that morning. It was like I could feel it coming through the walls. In my head, I saw his wife waking up, finding her husband, beginning to cry- all very morbid stuff, Grams told me. I’d learned to stop telling her.

So when I walked into the foyer of the house, and saw Mr. Marlow’s body strewn over the stairs and Mrs. Marlow lying by the security alarm console, I have to admit I shouldn’t have been surprised by how I reacted. I saw it all, clear as day. I saw it as if I’d done it. 

And then I fainted. Which I know is not particularly heroic, but I was 14 so give me a break. I mean, DANTE fainted because he like… felt bad for lovers in hell. I think it’s okay that I fainted the first time I saw real dead bodies up close.

I came to with police swarming the place, and the gruff but concerned face of an older man standing over me and shaking me awake. People were taking logs, pictures, samples, and at any other time I would have been very interested in the proceedings, but the only thought I had on my mind came bursting out of my mouth as, “Did you check the security company logs?”

The gruff but concerned face turned surprised, and he responded, “What?”

“She was standing by the console. The alarm must have gone off. Why didn’t anyone come?”

Surprise turned into something that was not quite suspicion, and before I knew it, I was down at the police station answering questions. I imagine I was probably a suspect of some sort, but that it must have become apparent fairly quickly that nothing happened under Gram’s roof that she was not aware of. If she said I was there all night and left at five that morning, then I was there all night and left at five. Plus around town ‘the pretty Graham boy’ (god I hated that moniker), was known to be sensitive and studious. Not exactly the type to shoot a man and stab his wife to death.

So, if I wasn’t a suspect, I was a witness. It turned out the gruff man from the Marlow’s house was the Chief of Police, Chief Swanson. He came in the holding room, sat across from me and finally asked the question I knew had been bothering him. 

“How’d you know about the security call? None of my men caught that, and they’re all professionals. How’d you catch it?”

I shrugged, not really sure I could put it into words. “It just made sense.”

His face shifted- again, it was not quite suspicion. It was… uncomfortable. The pretty Graham boy who’s good with feelings. “Anything else… just make sense, about this to you?”

“Whoever did this knew them. At least Mrs. Marlow. They may have only known Mr. Marlow through his wife. Mr. Marlow was… an inconvenience. He needed to go, so the killer could spend more time with Mrs. Marlow. She was the target. She’s how you’ll find him. He’s smart, and he prepared, but he was fixated. Which means he wasn’t focused on other things.”

I suppose I don’t need to tell you that they caught him. If they hadn’t caught him, it wouldn’t be much of a story.

So Chief Swanson asked me if things “just made sense to me” the next time a case stumped his team. And sure enough, looking at the photos, they did. And they made sense the next time. And the next time. For two years, all around New Orleans, the police kept coming to the teen detective, like I was some sort of totally screwed up, genderbent version of Nancy Drew.

And then the Dragon came to New Orleans.

The Dragon started his spree during Mardi Gras, when the noise levels were high and the streets were full. No one heard their neighbors being slaughtered. No one noticed a strange face in the crowd.

The Dragon killed whole families. 

The Dragon killed with his teeth.

And the Dragon knew about Will Graham, boy detective.

I know this, because at the last scene, there was a note. 

“Will Graham,

Your face is closed to me. 

But if you can see me… I can see you.

I would like to share.

I would like to change you.”

… after a note that like, no one could justify continuing to endanger the life of a 16 year old kid.

So I was going to go stay with Beau for a while. And honestly, I thought it was going to be a good thing.

Grams drove me to the airport. It was March, and a balmy 72 degrees in Louisiana. It would be 40 degrees when I got off the plane in Dulles. I tried not to show my excitement, but I had a plaid shirt and a henley in my carry on.

I said I’d always been a strange kid.

“You know, Will,” Gram said as we approached the airport, “This isn’t forever. It doesn’t HAVE to be forever. The police will catch this awful man, and then you can come home. I hate thinking of you starting all over in school!”

Let’s be honest, I’m a sensitive guy, and I’m strong but I’m small for my age- it’s not like I’d ever fit in in St. Rose. I didn’t exactly have a lot to start over FROM. Also, as far as I knew, there were no psychotic killers in Wolf Trap who wanted to ‘change’ me, whatever THAT meant. 

“It’s okay, Gram. Beau will take good care of me. And I’ll call. I love you.”

And then she was gone, and I went through security. It’s a fairly quick flight from New Orleans to Dulles, two and a half hours, and then and half hour to Beau’s old farm house. Flying isn’t bad for me, except it gives me a headache, but car rides with Beau can be weird. If only because we both aren’t exactly what you’d call talkers. But it was also almost… nice, in a way. Beau is one of the few people I really feel comfortable with. I’m like a smaller version of him, with mom’s blue eyes instead of his brown ones. I know sometimes it bothers him to see her in me.

Beau was waiting for me when I got off the plane in his police cruiser. Luckily, I was pretty used to riding in cop cars by now. 

“You look good, kid. Not as skinny. How’s my mom?”

“She’s good- well, as good as can be expected. Chief Swanson said he’d have people looking out for her.”

“Sounds good. They’ll have Mom detail, I’ll have Will detail, and before you know it they’ll have that guy in hand.”

And that was that. We got in the car, and started heading out. I put my henley and my plaid on. The car smelled vaguely like dogs and fish, which was comforting.

“I found you a really decent car, which is good, you’ll need one for the commute to school,” Beau announced as we were leaving the airport.

“Dad, it’s like 10 minutes to the school, but I appreciate the thought.”

“Yeah, about that. Chief Swanson says you’re a really bright kid, and you know your Grams sends me all your report cards. You could have a real bright future ahead of you.”

I felt a vague sense of uneasiness. “What does that have to do with Wolf Trap High School?”

“Well, it doesn’t have a lot to do with Wolf Trap High, but it does have a lot to do with Chilton Prep.”

My stomach sunk. “Dad, NO, not a private school! We can’t afford that.”

“We don’t have to, not with your grades and the Chief’s recommendation letter. They’re offering you an academic scholarship. Plus, security will be better, and the… well, no one would be expecting you to go there. It’s smart and it’s safe, son.”

I closed my eyes and put my head back. Starting halfway through the year at a private school would be hard. But… George Washington. It would look good to George Washington. Hell, it might even feed into it.

“And this car that can handle the commute? What IS the commute?”

“It’s in Seneca, MD, and it’s technically only about 30 minutes away, but I’d recommend giving yourself 45. Traffic in this area can be bad.”

“The Beltway,” we said in unison.

I’d really missed Beau.

“And the car is… well, it’s really more of a truck. And it’s sturdy! They don’t build em like that anymore.” Beau explained as we pulled away from the city of Wolf Trap, and moved into the woods.

“And when did they build it?”

“The beginning of time, I imagine.”

I smiled. “Well, between the two of us, I imagine we can keep the thing running. How much is it?”

Beau shifted uncomfortably in his seat, a sure sign he had done something nice. “I kind of already took care of it. Car’s in your name, though.”

Free. Wow.

“Well… thanks, Dad. I… thank you.”

We pulled up to the small, two bedroom farmhouse, and I could hear the sounds of my dad’s 7 dogs straining to get out. Dad and I had always had an affinity for dogs. Here, surrounded by the woods, the dogs, and the only human soul I didn’t find overwhelming, it was easy to imagine I could be happy here in Wolf Trap.

Now happiness at Chilton Prep, on the other hand, was hard to imagine. Apparently, it was also a boarding school, so some kids commuted in, but some kids lived there. And there was a uniform.

Just when I finally thought I could wear nothing but plaid from now on.

It was pretty exclusive, or at least that’s what the internet told me. Only 1000 students total. My school hadn’t been huge, so that wasn’t such a big change. But this time, I would be the weirdo southern scholarship kid, coming in midway through the year.

What a blast.

The truth was, it was hard for me to relate well to people, but only because it was so easy to relate to them, if that makes sense. Which I know it doesn’t. I have a hard time separating my feelings from someone else’s. When I meet someone new, I find myself adopting their manner of speech, their movements. I find myself anticipating their mood, and shifting to meet it.

It makes it very hard to know yourself. Especially when you’re in a new environment, with all new feelings, and new information coming in…

It can be overwhelming.

But there were bigger things at play here- Dragons and dreams. I could do this.

Beau and I had a quiet first night back- just us and the dogs, fish for dinner, then he and I worked on some of his fishing lures. The plan was to go out ice-fishing in the morning (clearly we were going to use live bait, it was winter after all.) I’d come in with the weekend ahead of me, like I wasn’t going to jump into a school week right away. Getting out in nature would be a good thing. Frozen or not, I always found comfort in the quiet of the stream.

****

Monday came sooner than I would have liked. 

It was very cold, and very damp- it felt like snow. I put on the uniform Beau had gotten for me- it fit surprisingly well, but we were similar builds, he probably remembered how he was at my age.

Then I looked in the mirror. I looked like Sebastian Fucking Valmont.

Luckily, I imagined that was the point.

On went a heavy coat borrowed from his closet, and gloves and a hat as well. Beau didn’t say anything when I poured myself a cup of coffee- guess he figured I was old enough.

“You got the directions?” Beau asked.

“Uh, I got my phone- that’s pretty much the same these days.”

Beau scowled good naturedly. “Have a good first day, you smart ass.”

Beau left before me- shockingly, the police office opens before the fancy private school starts, and I was left alone in the house with the dogs. I realized how seldom I’d been there alone- Beau always took his vacation when I came, normally- and the very air seemed smeared with his sadness. Beau had lived alone every since Mom left, and breathing that air, it was impossible not to sense that he’d never gotten over her.

I knew somehow that I would be the same way, if I ever fell in love. It’s strange, feeling what other people feel… the few feelings I knew were my own, I tended to cling to. There would be no way I’d ever be able to stop loving someone, once I loved them on my own.

Chiding myself for being a stereotypically emo teen, I finished my coffee, left food and water out for the dogs, and started to make my way to Chilton Prep. It was strange to not feel like I was swimming in air just walking around, but welcome. I felt at home with the Virginia wind against my face.

Getting in the truck Beau had gotten me- god, it was ancient, like a relic from Old America- I realized that, of course, there was no way to charge my phone. The radio itself looked like the original. My mind started going through all the ways I could update it. They would be fun weekend projects.

At least more fun than a crime scene. Maybe?

I plugged the address into my phone, making a mental note to make sure to charge it every night, and got on the road. It was a pretty enough drive, winding around the river and through the naked trees. I could get used to looking at the woods all the time.

What I might not be able to get used to, I thought to myself as I approached, was Chilton Prep itself.

It looked like a goddamned castle. No really, there were GARGOYLES on the roof. It looked like motherfucking Hogwarts. It was huge and gothic, tacky the way the American buildings trying to look Old World-y tend to be. If I had been grabbed and dragged to a courtyard for a ritual sacrifice, I wouldn’t have been surprised.

But, you know, I spent a lot of my free time looking at dead bodies up till then. I suppose I’d skewed a little dark in my perception.

Pulling into the parking lot, I cringed. The old truck stood out like a sore thumb against all the shiny Volvos and BMWs. Although, there was a beautiful Bentley that made us all look like garbage. I wonder who THAT belonged to. Probably the headmaster, or something.

I could feel eyes pull to me before I even got out of the truck, and I steeled myself. The eyes all followed me as I made my way to the entrance. It was a small school. They all probably knew each other. I’m sure rumors had been flying prior to my coming, too. 

So everyone already knew I was the new scholarship kid. I just hoped that was all they knew, that no one had found out about what I’d been doing and why I was here.

I just had to get through the day, and then I could go back to the small farm house that was now home, with the 7 dogs who loved my dad and I the way no person could. And when things got too overwhelming, I could at the very least, make it all go away. I could just put my head back, close my eyes, wade into the quiet of the stream.

Luckily, the admittance office was right when you walked in, so I didn’t have to be gawked at for too long. An incredibly disinterested woman, who seemed to know who I was on sight, gave me a class schedule, a map, and a welcome packet with rule book, that appeared to be thicker than my copy of the Divine Comedy. So this was going to be a very relaxed place, I could tell.

Having been sent on my way, I studied my schedule to see where I had to maneuver to first. Looked like I had to find Room 108 for Home Room and English with someone called Mrs. Komeda. I remembered the name from somewhere… maybe she was a novelist? It made sense that a school like this would have experts. I hoped there was someone good for Science and History, two of my favorite subjects. 

I looked up from my schedule to try and get my bearings, and meet with two of the friendliest brown eyes I’d ever seen. They were placed prettily in one of the friendliest faces I’d ever seen, too.

“Hey!” Said the voice belonging to the face. “I’m Beverly Katz. You must be Will Graham.”

I could feel the tick on my face. “So much for anonymity.”

Beverly offered a well-natured scoff. “In this place? Good luck. We all saw you coming from a mile away.”

Beverly was hard not to like. She looked like she knew it, too, but somehow it only made her more likable. “Well, Beverly Katz who saw me coming from a mile away, wanna tell me how to get to room 108?” 

“You got Komeda? Me too! I’ll take you myself.” Beverly seemed to somehow sense I was… well, not a toucher, so she took the lead down the hall. I had to admit, it was nice to have a face I would recognize around over the next coming days as I got settled. I listened with amusement as Beverly launched into a play-by-play of the “Main players at Chilton Prep.”

“So let me give you the low-down. You got the legacies- people like Frederick Chilton HIMSELF, the Vergers, and the Blooms. Alana and Margot are cool, Chilton is okay, but Mason Verger is a nasty piece of work. I’d try not to catch his eye if I were you. Stay away from Freddie Lounds, if at all possible, too- she is up in everyone’s business all the time. If you’re into sports- you look like maybe you could do track? I’m your girl. I’m captain of the Volleyball team, I run track, and I’m Varsity Basketball, too. Oh, and I’m on the Science Team. Me, Brian Zeller, and Jimmy Price- we call ourselves Team Sassy Science.”

“I could see myself on Team Sassy Science,” I said, warmly, and even meaning it.

Beverly smiled. She was cute when she smiled. “Yeah? Awesome! Let’s talk at lunch, I’ll introduce you around,” she offered, as we came up on Room 108. “I’d offer to see next to you in class, but we have assigned seats. See you later!” Beverly breezed past me into her own seat, and I introduced myself to Mrs. Komeda, a stylish looking woman with dark, severe hair who looked like she ate lesser beings for lunch. Considering, again, how one of my hobbies was looking at dead bodies, it was remarkable how scary I found her. Thankfully, she sent me to the back of the room, where I would have to endure a minimum of staring.

The morning passed in a blur, Beverly guiding me around to Math as well, and then to the lunchroom. I grabbed a sandwich- thankfully, in a place like this, lunch was all paid for- and Beverly dragged me over to a large table with two other boys and two other girls, who she introduced as Brian, Jimmy, Margot and Alana respectively. They were all as warm as Beverly, and I had a feeling under normal circumstances I would have been very interested in Alana’s clear blue eyes- except that I spotted them across the room for the first time.

There were five of them, strange kids who all looked incredibly different, yet somehow the same. They were different heights, builds, colorings… and yet they were unnaturally beautiful. There were two girls, one blond and elegant looking, with strange maroon eyes. The other girl was slight and starry looking, hair dark and eyes blue, like mine. Her face was sweet in a way the other girl’s was not. There were also three boys- one dark and dangerous looking, who could have been a teacher. His eyes moved around the room as though he were spoiling for a fight. Another was shorter, rounder, with a full beard which was… unusual, for a high schooler. I felt he shouldn’t be as attractive as he was, but there was something about him that was so pleasant, you couldn’t help but enjoy looking at him.

And then the youngest looking boy was the most beautiful person I’d ever seen.

His hair was blonde, like the girls, his eyes the same strange maroon… but his elegance surpassed hers like the sun eclipsing the moon. He was broad, and strong looking, and somehow he seemed more dangerous than the restless, dark boy. 

I felt like I knew him from somewhere. I’d never understood people who talked about attraction, before, or an instant connection- but now I understood. I felt certain that my fate was tied to this stunning boy’s somehow.

“Who are they?” I breathed out, evidently interrupting a conversation taking place around me. Everyone’s eyes turned to the table where they sat. The maroon eyed boy whipped to look at us, as though he’d heard me, and when his gaze settled on mine, his eyes widened and his lips parted, then he looked away quickly.

Beverly snorted, directing my attention back to my own table. “Those are the Lecters, and yes, they are ALL fine.”

“Yeah, and they’re all TOGETHER.” Brian responded. “They’re foster kids,” he explained to me. “Their father, Dr. Lecter, adopted them, and it’s like a weird mix of foster care and match making. They all came into school at the beginning of last semester.”

“Have you SEEN Clarice? Maybe Dr. Lecter will adopt ME.” Alana sighed. 

“I think Mischa would rip your eyes out, honey,” Jimmy interjected.

“Mischa- the blonde girl- and Clarice, the cute short one with the dark hair, and together, and Tobias, the one who always looks like he’s ready to kill someone, is with poor sweet Franklyn.”

“Hannibal is still on the market, though.” Beverly offered impishly.

“Yeah, but no one HERE has ever caught his eye,” Alana said, and I wondered if she knew from experience. I saw a slight smirk pass on his face, again as though her words had reached him somehow. Then he looked directly at me again, with a question in his eyes. I felt my cheeks grow flush.

Thankfully, I was saved from embarrassing myself more when the bell rang, signally that lunch was over and that it was time to move onto our next classes. Luckily, Jimmy had Science next with me, and we walked in fairly comfortable silence together. I think he could tell I was getting overwhelmed.

Science was with a Dr. Sutcliffe, and as he was getting my materials together, I looked around the room. Somehow the beautiful maroon eyed boy had beaten everyone there. I found it strange that no one settled in to sit next to him- that is, until Dr. Sutcliffe directed me to the empty seat.

God, as if there weren’t already enough opportunities to humiliate myself in a day.

I stumbled towards the desk with the grace of a herd of baby elephants, while the boy- Hannibal- watched me with a sort of passive curiosity. Then, suddenly, I saw him seize up as though he were in pain. I settled into my seat, and was about to ask if he was okay… when he looked at me as though he could kill me. As though he would kill me.

Not nearly as afraid as I felt I should have been, I looked forward, closed in on myself a bit. He was leaning away from me, sitting on the extreme edge of his chair and averting his face like he smelled something bad. I sniffed my plaid shirt. It smelled of my 7 dogs, pine, and fish. It seemed an innocent enough odor…. Okay, I could see how some people could find it offensive, but honestly, it wasn’t that bad.

We were talking about the Central Nervous System, which, luckily, I already knew about (crime scenes, dead bodies), so I had nothing to concentrate on for 80 minutes, other than the boy sitting next to me. It felt like the period would never end, then, blessedly, the bell rang. I expected him to bolt out of his seat, but instead he stayed, frozen. I worked up the courage to look over at him, which was a mistake. He looked at me strangely, intensely… as if he were hungry. Then he very deliberately leaned over, and smelled me. I closed my eyes at the feel of his breath on me…

And then I opened my eyes and he was gone.

“Did Hannibal Lecter just smell you?” An odd, old fashioned voice sounded near me. I looked to where it came from to find a handsome blonde boy with sharp blue eyes looking at me.

“I… I think he did.” Honestly, I was glad I hadn’t imagined it.

“You must be Will Graham.” He offered his hand to me, and I took it, although I was somehow off-put by the formal gesture. “I’m Mason Verger. Happy to meet you.”

Now I knew what Beverly meant. He was a slimeball if there ever was one.

“Likewise, I’m sure.”

“Well, where are you off to next, Willy?” God, I hated him already.

“P.E. No idea where that is, though, so I should get going,” I told him, hoping to get rid of him.

“What luck, that’s my next class, too! I’ll walk you.” Oh, joy.

“What did you say to Hannibal Lecter? I’ve never seen him look so angry before.”

“I said literally nothing. I have no idea what his problem is.”

Mason hummed conspiratorially, “Well, he’s always been a bit of an odd duck, if you will. Don’t worry about his opinion- no one with any sense could dislike a pretty thing like you.” 

Well, so much for not catching Mason Verger’s eye.

Mercifully, the walk to PE was short, and even more mercifully, since it was my first day and I hadn’t gotten the gym uniform yet, Coach Krendler let me observe instead of participate. I would have to visit the admittance office again to get the forms for that. I managed to duck out before any of the other kids got changed, and avoid Mason Verger’s leering eyes.

When I got to the Admittance office, however, I saw already familiar broad shoulders leaning over the desk (the indifferent older woman was decidedly less indifferent now.) It appeared they’d been talking for a while- I quietly opened the door and let myself in, allowing myself to overhear their conversation. 

He had an accent. 

A thick, delicious, creamy accent, Scandinavian somehow. As though he couldn’t get more attractive.

“I assure you, I’ll be able to catch up in any of the classes- just not Sutcliffe’s class. I would greatly appreciate-” he stopped suddenly, turned to me. And glared. The older woman just stared at him helplessly.

His lips set in a thin line. “Nevermind. I see I’ll simply have to endure it. Thank you for your time.”

He pushed passed me, and so quickly I could have sworn I imagined it again, smelled me- lips almost but not quite brushing my ear. I felt my knees go weak.

Honestly, what red-blooded American boy gets faint from an aggressive weirdo smelling them?

The secretary smiled at me awkwardly. “Did you have a nice first day?”

***

I got my uniform ordered, then raced out to the truck to avoid any interaction. I’d liked Beverly and her crowd, but the confrontations with Hannibal and Mason had left me shaken. What had I done to upset that handsome boy so much?

Once I was in the car, I let the Virginia winter chill wrap around me like a blanket, and fought the ridiculous urge to cry.

I’d confront him tomorrow.


	3. Reading Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t see the motherfucker for almost a week.
> 
> That motherfucker skipped town to avoid smelling me for almost a week.

I didn’t see the motherfucker for almost a week. 

That motherfucker skipped town to avoid smelling me for almost a week.

I woke up the next day, ready to confront Hannibal- ask what I could have possibly done to set him off. For reasons I couldn’t quite name, I’d gotten up early enough to try and tame my hair into submission (it’s normally pretty curly and unmanageable), and see if there was any possible way to wear my school uniform that didn’t make me look like a young finance prick. (there wasn’t.) I got to school on the early side, and despite the chill, waited out by the entrance, so I would be sure to see Hannibal right away.  
People stopped to say hi as I waited- Beverly, Brian, Jimmy, and Alana all made sure to say hello, and sadly Mason felt compelled to greet me as well, although fortunately Margot was with him (apparently she was his sister, and I felt sorry for her- she cowered away from him like an abused dog, and my dislike of Mason intensified.) The cold drove everyone in pretty quickly, though. Beverly told me that people tended to congregate in the hall by the cafeteria, when it was cold (there was a small Cafe like stand, like a small fancy Starbucks, because of course there was) and I assured her I’d catch up with her.

Once I saw Hannibal.

Only he didn’t show.

His impossibly attractive adopted siblings arrived- in that beautiful, well-maintained Bentley, and my body tensed as I expected to see him appear… only to be disappeared as the Bentley’s doors slammed shut. The quartet looked odd and incomplete without Hannibal’s regal beauty. Now that I was less distracted by the handsome youngest son, I noticed that even in this school, they stood out for how well-groomed and impeccably dressed they were. Mischa and Franklyn wore their style a little more loudly than Clarice and Tobias, who were as understated and graceful as a Botticelli. They all looked like works of art- so different from other high school kids, so deliberate. I wondered how kids in their teens learned style like that. Maybe they were from overseas? Hannibal did have that not-dreamy-at-ALL accent.

Hannibal...

Pathetically, I started coming up for excuses as to why he would be missing; maybe he had a dentist appointment; maybe he was sick- anything other than this handsome boy hated me SO MUCH that he skipped school.

Eventually the final bell rang, and I had no choice but to run to Home Room if I didn’t want to be late on my second day. Beverly gave me a quizzical look as I settled into my seat, and I smiled at her and mouthed, “I’ll tell you later.”

Hoping, of course, that she would forget, and I wouldn’t have to tell her later. Clearly, I am an idiot. The speed with which she propelled herself to my desk at the bell was cartoon-like.

“WHO was the stake out for?” She squealed. It took me a moment to realize she didn’t mean an ACTUAL stake out. 

“Uh, if you can keep it to yourself…” i hesitated. I LIKED Beverly, and she seemed genuine. And I was generally pretty good at reading people (empathy disorders aren’t all corpses and death threats.) Still, I didn’t need to get embroiled in gossip on my second day.

“Graham, I’m not TattleCrime. That’s Freddie Lounds. I just wanna have your back.”

“Okay, well… wait a second, what is TattleCrime?”

“Oh, god, I didn’t tell you. Freddie- if you haven’t met her yet, she’s the pretty redhead who looks like a snake, you won’t be able to miss her- she runs this WEIRD Gossip Girl like site where she airs all our dirt. Believe me, I don’t want anything to do with that.”

I swallowed. The last thing I needed was to get on the radar with someone like that. Blow my whole cover and ruin my chances with… here at Chilton Prep before things had even really started.

“I’ll tell you later. Too many ears here, and if we don’t get moving we’ll be late to class.”

Beverly pouted- she was cute when she smiled, and she was cute when she pouted- but it quickly turned into a teasing, “Oooooookay,” and she stood and we started towards the door- 

Where Mason Verger was waiting.

Just great.

“Hey, Willy- Bev. Was hoping I could see you to your next class. Wouldn’t want you getting lost on your second day.”

Beverly made the look of disdain I lacked the bravery for. “I got this round, Mason. Will and I have the same class anyway. Which you’re not in. And I’m sure you don’t want to be late.”

Mason’s eyes narrowed, but his lips smiled. It was an… unsettling look. “Well, as long as Will is taken care of.” He looked at me directly, eyes widening but not really softening. “I’ll see you in Science. Have a good second day!”

He turned and stormed off, and Beverly shuddered. “God, could he be any more SLIMY?”

I watched him make his way down the hall, uneasily. “He really couldn’t be.”

****

The day got better and worse from there. 

It got better because Beverly forgot all about asking me why I was being Hannibal’s weirdo stalker out front this morning, so I didn’t have to deal with that. It got better because now that I knew Mason was being MY weirdo stalker, I made a beeline for the door after every class to miss him. It got better because I had Margot, Alana, Jimmy and Brian in other classes, and they were all very welcoming, despite my quirks. 

It got worse because I could feel Mason’s eyes on me all throughout the last two periods. It got worse because I caught my first glimpse of Freddie Lounds- Beverly was right, a beautiful redheaded snake if there ever was one- and her eyes lit up when she saw me with unabashed curiosity. It got worse because I didn’t see Hannibal at lunch. It got worse because I didn’t see Hannibal in Science (which allowed Mason to linger by my desk, like an unwanted case of food poisoning.)

It got worse because I didn’t see Hannibal, let’s be honest.

As the week continued, my hopes that Hannibal’s absence was temporary were seemingly dashed. His family continued to arrive without him; the siblings were a quartet at lunch; the seat next to me in Science remained empty. I scolded myself- it was entirely unlike me to be so attuned to one specific person.

I spent most of my life trying to block out other people’s feelings- why was it this one boy’s esteem had me so riled up?

I did my best to ignore it, and the week went on in much the same strained anticipatory state. I woke up a little earlier than I liked, trying to make myself look… less unkempt, in case today was the day he showed his face. I went to school, looked for Hannibal, tried to socialize, looked for Hannibal, avoided Mason, looked for Hannibal. I’d go home, feed the dogs, think about Hannibal, do homework, think about Hannibal, work on boat motors while waiting for Charlie to get home, think about Hannibal, we’d eat dinner, work on fishing lures, and I’d go to bed and stare at my ceiling and then do something NEW and think about Hannibal. Oh, and on Wednesday I added another step to this agonizing routine and I gave Gram a call (I’m not much for the phone, but she says she can’t “sort that blasted computer- it turns ITSELF off.”) She reassured me that St. Rose was the same, but she sounded sad. Lonely. It bothered me that I was here, with Beau and the dogs, and she was there by herself. Made me feel selfish.

Then I remembered that a serial killer was lurking about New Orleans hoping to share his design with me. It’s not like I had a choice.

Beau was empathetically NOT a cook, and I was little better- this meant we were mostly at eating dinner every at this little diner just at the edge of town called The Firefly. There was a pretty waitress there, and I think was half the reason Beau never got much interest in learning how to cook. Her name was Reba- she remembered me from the summers I spent there, and gave me peach cobbler on the house. I could tell she liked Beau, too- I tried to think to myself how to subtly encourage him to ask her out. No one should spend their whole life pining after someone who didn’t have the courage to stay.

I really had to take my own advice, I realized.

By Friday, I had given up. I slept till my usual time, rolled out of bed and drove down the pretty river towards Chilton Prep. The air was especially chilled this morning, and as I drove, thousands of tiny little snowflakes began to fall, gracing the roads and mountains with a thin layer of white. It was… enchanting. 

I parked my massive, ugly truck in the parking lot with all the beautiful, expensive cars at Chilton Prep, and went straight to the cafe to wait for Team Sassy Science. I had decided I was going to join the Science League- I was pretty interested in insects, especially, and saw no reason not to throw myself into it. Everyone else arrived shortly, and Beverly went to Home Room with me (there was now a sort of unspoken pact that someone would try and come with me to whatever class I was going to, in order to keep Mason at bay- I felt oddly like a maiden in need of defending, but since everyone else reacted like I did to Mason, I thought it was better to be safe than sorry.)

The morning passed pleasantly enough, and I was no longer looking for Hannibal’s maroon eyes down every hall. It would be easy enough to forget about him now, I decided. I would be okay if I never saw him again.

So of course, at lunch I saw him sitting with his gorgeous siblings as soon as I’d filled up my tray, and nearly tripped over my own two feet and almost set the whole thing flying. Brian was in line with me, and grabbed my chocolate milk before it met a sorry end on the floor.

“Dude, you okay?”

“I, uh,” I dragged my eyes away from Hannibal to Brian. “I’m fine. Just clumsy. Just... totally embarrassing.”

Brian shrugged and set the small bottle (like this was Chilton Prep, this shit didn’t come in cardboard cartons) back on my tray. I followed him like a zombie to ‘our’ table, sat down and promptly tried not to hyperventilate.

I realized I had sat in such a way where I would have to look over my shoulder to get another glimpse of Hannibal, and I cursed myself for my idiocy. I took a risk and gave a glance back- only to find he was looking right at me, too.

His gaze was much less intense than last time, and decidedly soft. Not unfriendly, just… curious. Like he was trying to figure out a puzzle. He looked beautiful- they all did. They all had high color, and their clothes were slightly damp, clearly they had just come in from the snow. Hannibal even still had some in his hair, and it made him glisten and it was entirely unfair. They all still looked as inhumanely gorgeous as before, but there was something slightly different. Especially about Hannibal. He didn’t look as… hungry as before. He looked sated, somehow. I thought of other situations he might look that way.

Then I whipped my head back around and focused on my tray, because it was lunch period and I was NOT going there.

Beverly looked at me in concern. “You doing okay over there, Graham?”

I forced myself to smile at her. “I figure I’m okay as I’m ever going to get here at Chilton Prep.”

Bev smirked. “So you’re unstable. That’s okay, we all are.”

Everyone laughed, my odd behavior forgotten, and I made myself interact with everyone like nothing was wrong, all the while my stomach was in a knot over Science. Next period. With Hannibal next to me, the whole time.

Finally, lunch ended, and I tried to be entirely casual as Jimmy and I walked together. Jimmy, in some odd ways, reminded me a lot of Beau- they both knew not to hover with me. 

Hannibal had somehow beaten us again, which was odd, as I knew he’d still been sitting at his table when I’d left because I was not obsessed in any way. Jimmy smiled as he went to his own seat, and I hesitated slightly before making my way to my own. Hannibal smiled very slightly as I sat down, eyes not leaving me.

“Hello.” God, his voice was like imported European butter, and I wanted it in my mouth.

Where the hell had that thought come from?

He was sitting slightly further away from me than was normal, but his eyes were directly on mine and he was angled towards me. He looked even more breathtaking up close, and the snow was making his carefully gelled hair loosen and fall into his eyes. His expression was carefully schooled into a polite expression. 

“My name is Hannibal Lecter, I didn’t have a chance to introduce myself on Monday. You must be William Graham.” His smile widened slightly.

“You smelled me,” I stuttered out and then immediately wanted to die.

Hannibal’s expression slipped, and then he laughed slightly. “Difficult to avoid. Perhaps I could introduce you to a finer aftershave.”

Did this beautiful boy just insult my aftershave? Were there different kinds of aftershave? I thought we all just used that bottle at the drugstore with a ship on it.

Awkwardly, I let it dropped. Thankfully. Dr. Sutcliffe started class at that moment, so I didn’t look just totally inept. We were going to be identifying phases of mitosis today, which I had already done in my Advanced class in St. Rose, so this wouldn’t be too much of a challenge for me.

“Would you like to go first?” Hannibal inquired, all politeness again. He was so beautiful, I froze, and he clearly thought me slow because he paused when I didn’t respond, frowned, and said, “Or I could start, if you wish.”

“No,” I snapped, grabbing the microscope. “I can do it.” God, would I stop being unintentionally rude? He was going to actually have a reason to dislike me, the way I was acting.  
I barely had to look at it. “Prophase.”

Hannibal paused slightly, clearly not trusting the judgement of the deranged boy who smelled of fish, dogs and pine and couldn’t string together a polite sentence. “Do you mind if I take a look?”

I shrugged, and handed off the microscope, when our hands brushed slightly. We both took an inhale of breath, eye meeting. His hand was cold, but my skin was warm where he’d just touched. 

He licked his lips, swallowed, and whispered, “I’m sorry,” before turn his attention to the microscope. “Prophase,” he agreed, writing it down in neat, old fashioned print on our worksheet.

I swallowed too, still feeling his phantom touch. “Like I said.”

He paused and laughed slightly again before changing out the slide. “Anaphase,” he offered, and began to write it down without even asking me. 

“Do you mind if I take a look?” I interjected, and he looked at me in surprise. 

“Why, of course.” I took the microscope myself, to avoid his strange chilled and heated touch. I frowned as I looked at the slide. Godamnnit, he was right.

“Anaphase,” I muttered with disappointment.

“Like I said.” I looked up, and he was smiling. Did he just make a joke? He just made a joke. 

I felt my heart jump, and I could feel my lips curve into what I knew was a flirty smile, involuntarily. I was in trouble. 

We went back and forth over the next slides, clearly trusting each other’s judgement now. We were finished before anyone else. Which left me with nothing to do but try and be sociable. 

“Where did you go?” I blurted out without thinking. 

He regarded me strangely, which was fair because I was continuing to be terribly rude. “I had… a difficulty to take care of. All is well now, though, thank you for asking.” So polite. I fidgeted with my shirt collar out of nerves, and I saw his fists clench at his sides.

Dr. Sutcliffe came over to our table then, looking over our worksheet. “Hannibal, don’t you think you should have let Will look at some of the slides?”

“Actually, William identified more than half himself.”

Dr. Sutcliffe looked at me with consideration. “Have you done this lab before?” 

I shrugged sheepishly. “Yes, but with whitefish blastula.”

“You were in Advanced placement?”

I could feel the blush spread on my face. “Yes.”

Dr. Sutcliffe looked at us and nodded, saying, “I guess it’s good you two are lab partners,” before turning to assist some of the other students. 

Leaving Hannibal and I to try and make small talk again.

“It’s a shame about the snow. I thought perhaps winter would end early this year.”

He was talking to me about the weather. Because of course he was.

“I don’t mind it. I’m not used to it, but it’s… it’s beautiful, in it’s own way.” I licked my lips, and when he didn’t respond, I continued. “I’ve never really seen snow before.”

I turned to look at him again, and Hannibal’s maroon eyes were again fixed on me with intensity. “No, I suppose being from St. Rose, Louisiana, you might not have. Especially in recent years.”

I blinked. “How did you know where I’m from?”

His lip quirked slightly downwards in an expression I couldn’t quite read. “Oh, I think everyone knows about Sheriff Graham’s son from New Orleans.”

“But you didn’t say New Orleans. You said St. Rose. I don’t… I just don’t remember telling anyone that.” I insisted stubbornly.

His mouth performed the same stubborn, downward tick. “Oh, I’m sure I heard it around. You’re quite a big topic of conversation, you know.”

I grimaced. That sounded both horrifying and plausible. The scholarship kid, the nearby Sheriff’s kid from the South. Naturally rumors would go around somehow. I just hoped no one was digging TOO deeply.

I didn’t realize I’d gone silent, when he continued. “But yes, there’s something.. Comforting about the changing of the seasons. It reminds us of a cycle.” His voice was quiet, and warm, and considered. It sounded like an invitation. I couldn’t help but answer.

“Exactly. Everything has a beginning and an end. Seasons help us understand that. As children we watch the natural world awaken, and then go to sleep. And then awaken again.”

“It not only shows us life, and death, it shows us the possibility of renewal. It shows us the cycle is not just death and decay, but rebirth.”

His face was so beautiful in that moment. Utterly sincere. It felt so odd to have someone say things out loud that I had only ever thought it my head. It was like looking in a mirror.

“Who ARE you?” The whisper left me before I had a chance to hold it back. His eyes locked back onto mine. For a long, dizzying moment, I couldn’t breathe.

Distantly, I was aware of the bell ringing. I sucked in a breath, but still couldn’t bring myself to look away. He also didn’t waver. 

Stupidly, from nowhere, I thought he might try to taste me, which even in the moment I thought was a weird way to refer to a kiss. 

Until a pair of hands settled on the desk in front of us, and we both turned to look at the owner, almost in tandem. Mason Verger. Shit. I’d forgotten he had this class with me- I’d been purposely making a beeline to gym as soon as the bell rang to avoid him. I just hadn’t been distracted by Hannibal Lecter’s lava eyes and molten voice before today.

“Ready for gym, Willy? Hate to have you getting lost on us.”

Hannibal’s face fell into the polite veneer I recognized from before, every ounce of his body language signalling that he was holding himself in control. However, I could see a hint of amusement pulling at his lips. “It’s Will’s fifth day here, Mason. He’d have to be feeble minded by now not to know how to get to his next class.” He turned towards me, and now the hint of amusement was more pronounced. “Are you feeble minded, Will?”

“Oh, um, well, not… not as such, no.” I stuttered out, not expecting the game he had decided to play with Mason.

He turned his gaze back to Mason briefly. “There you go. Will is perfectly capable of finding his own way.” He stood then, turn his gaze to mine and offering his hand. “I’d like to walk with you, just for the pleasure of your company.”

It felt odd to take his hand- it occurred to me that all of my classmates had avoided touching me, up until then, either by instinct or example. When our fingers touched, I felt that same cool-hot feeling, but now it went through my whole body.

Hannibal didn’t even bother to look at Mason now, just dismissed him with the tiniest jerk of his head. “If you’ll excuse us.”

Hannibal dropped my hand as we reached the door, and I felt something in me sink with disappointment. The feeling only increased when I heard Mason’s steps hard and fast behind us. 

“You’ll find there are the right sort of friends to make here, Willy my boy, and the wrong sort. But don’t let it be said Mason Verger doesn’t give second chances. I’ll let you think on it,” he hissed at our backs. I turned to look at him, cutting Hannibal off at the quick. I could speak for myself, damnit. 

“I think I know the right sort from the wrong sort, thank you very much.” Mason paled, then shoved past us down the hall. I would have been relieved, except it was then I noticed a flash of red hair down the hall. A flash of red hair holding up a phone.

Freddie Lounds, stalking about the halls. And I was fairly certain she’d just gotten a video of my honor being fought over by two handsome but also very different boys. Well, that was a way to keep a low profile. I saw Hannibal take note of her too, straightening to an even more proper stance and his eyes narrowing.

“Tasteless,” I muttered, almost unaware I had said it.

Hannibal’s eyes softened as he focused his attention back on me. “Do you have problems with taste?” 

We started walking down the hall- no point in being late on top of everything else. “My thoughts are not often… tasty.” 

Hannibal chuckled, as though I had made a private joke. “Nor mine, I assure you. No effective barriers.

“I make forts,” I retorted.

“Associations come quickly.”

“So do forts.” God, it was like a dance. And for once, I had no idea who was leading. 

Hannibal turned thoughtful again, as he had been in the classroom, talking about winter. “I imagine what you see and learn touches everything else in your mind. Your values and decency are present yet shocked at your associations, appalled at your dreams. No forts in the bone arena of your skull for things you love.”

We had reached the gym, but I was reluctant to let go of him, this strange, handsome boy who said the deepest things of my heart. “Who ARE you?” I asked him again.

“That,” he whispered, hand ghosting over my hair and neck, “Is precisely what I want to know of you.”


	4. Phenom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The weekend passed at an agonizingly glacial pace, and I knew it was because it was two days of waiting to see Hannibal again.

The weekend passed at an agonizingly glacial pace, and I knew it was because it was two days of waiting to see Hannibal again.

I was alarmed by my interest in and attraction to the strange and handsome boy. I’d never really been able to… well, to be attracted, at least back in St. Rose. Having what I have, being the way I am, thinking the way I think, I was never really able to differentiate between someone’s attraction to me, and what I myself was feeling. I often found myself swept away in someone else’s feelings- so rather than try and sort my own out, I had to push everyone else away. There was no safe place for other people’s wants in my head.

With Hannibal, though, it was different. It was like there was a very carefully constructed wall, one that my abilities were not able to easily breach. Rather than crowd me with his feelings, the only thing I could detect from him was a desperate desire to hide them from me.

It was a novel sensation, being able to want someone all on my own. 

Bev, Alana, and Margot and I had all exchanged numbers that week, and they all checked in to see how I was settling in. I fought the urge to pump them for information on the Lecter clan. I couldn’t, however, stop myself from doing a little internet research- which came up shockingly bare. These kids didn’t seem to be on any social media- with their good looks and charisma, an ardent instagram following or Snapchat empire wouldn’t have surprised me, but no matter what terms I strung together, there seemed to be no trace of the Lecters anywhere on the internet. Rather than put me off, it made me all the more intrigued- strange, old fashioned names. Totally remote and inaccessible. Private, protected. I could… relate to that type of isolation. We, neither of us, felt comfortable with out loud intimacy it seemed. Rare in this day and age.

Luckily, Beau had the weekend off, and we went ice fishing, which was a welcome distraction. We were both natural fishermen, and with the kinds of hauls we made even in the dead of winter, there wasn’t much call for grocery shopping (you can eat fish for breakfast if you’re determined. But that was unnecessary when there were diners nearby, with pretty waitresses who made Beau’s eyes light up.)

When we weren’t fishing or eating, I was in my room, reading. Mostly stuff on how you can use insect activity to determine time of death- you know, normal teenage boy stuff. Towards the end of the weekend, though, alone with Beau’s old hanging shelf of dog eared paperback novels, a well-worn copy of Bram Stoker’s ‘Dracula’ caught my eye, and for some reason I couldn’t help but pick it up. I fell asleep Sunday evening with it in my hands, imagining myself as Jonathan Harker, looking into the cool and clean face of his fate.

***

When I woke up Monday morning, I could sense that something in the air had shifted. There was a quiet to the air, even quieter than usual in our secluded old farm house. Like the sound was muffled from all sides. I looked out the window, and saw that while I slept, the whole area had been covered with a thick layer of snow and ice. I saw Beau out with the dogs, their paws silent in the deep blanket of white that covered the acres around the house.

I made my way downstairs and poured myself a cup of coffee, looking forward to the day ahead. I enjoyed the cool weather here, the way the air cut across my skin like a knife, enjoyed the quiet of the small house, and most of all enjoyed knowing I would see the unusually beautiful boy who’d cemented a place in my mind. Which was very, very stupid. Very... cliched. I was starting to feel boy-crazy, which wasn’t like me. Although, I wasn’t generally focused one way or another, when it came to this sort of thing. I think it would be more accurate to say I was starting to feel Hannibal-crazy.

After Friday’s odd intensity, I probably ought to be avoiding him. I had been too curious, too honest- none of the forts I was usually so good at building up and secured. I knew how off-putting I could be when I let my walls down. Other people didn’t talk like that, didn’t think like that. If it had been anyone else I had spoken to like that, I would have been too embarrassed to show my face. But Hannibal hadn’t seem put off at all- Hannibal seemed as though he were just continuing a thought his own mind had generated. So I felt decidedly excited at the thought of seeing him again. Despite his behavior that first day, I felt like my first impression of Hannibal Lecter was correct- my fate was tied to him.

Beau came in and poured his own cup of coffee, while the dogs flooded the kitchen to see me as though it had been years and not hours since they last saw me. Beau nodded in greeting. Honestly, compared to living with warm, effusive, bossy, darling Grams, it was a bit like living with a ghost. I knew it was there, but there was minimal… invasion.

“Snowed pretty hard last night, you should… well, be careful on the road.” Beau stated this oddly, like he’d intended to say something else. I nodded and chalked it up to him being a fort builder, like me. Neither of us is good at saying what’s on our minds.

I decided to leave early to give myself time, so I shrugged on his old coat, and borrowed a pair of old snow boots as well- I would have to remember to consider buying my own, although Beau didn’t seem to mind- and made my way out to the truck. Seemed like there was a pretty slick layer of ice under the snow. I made a note to be careful driving to Seneca.

The note was hardly needed- the truck handled the the unpaved roads like a dream, snug and secure somehow. Seemed like most of the nearby residents had chosen to stay in or wait until the streets had been cleared, so I was the only one on the road, but I still drove slowly. I wasn’t experienced driving on the snow, and I didn’t want to end up swerving off the road and having to call Beau to come get me. 

Even given my slow speed coming in, I was one of the first in the parking lot at Chilton. I was surprised to see the Lecters already there, all the way across the parking lot from me. Their beautiful Bentley looked like it somehow hadn’t even gotten wet, and Mischa, Clarice, and Franklyn were all shoving each other about in the snow while Hannibal looked my way. I felt that same cold and hot feeling go through me that had happened when our fingers met. He looked away first, biting his lip, and I could feel my cheeks go red and it had nothing to do with the chill.

To get my mind on something else- anything else- I trudged to the back of the truck to survey the tires, wondering what brand they were to have handled the black ice like that. To my surprise, there were thin chains criss-crossing all along the old rubber tires. Beau must have gotten up before dawn to put snow chains on my truck. I felt a lump raise in my throat- Grams was great, but the roles had long ago switched and I had been responsible for most of the everyday stuff in St. Rose. It had been a long time since someone had gone out of their way to take care of me. That’s why Beau had been so off about it. He probably wasn’t used to having anyone to take care of, either.

As I was struggling not to let tears reach my eyes, I became aware of a loud noise- coming right at me. 

In a pendulum swing, I saw several things at once- a shiny new Volvo, with a girl I hadn’t seen before behind the wheels, was skidding, the driver having lost control on the icy pavement. I saw Beverly and Price both getting out of her car, eyes wide at the scene unfolding. And I saw Hannibal, all the way across the lot, maroon eyes widening in horror. 

They were widening in horror because the Volvo was coming right towards me. I didn’t have time to run- it was going to hit the edge of the truck, and I was right between them. I didn’t even have time to blink.

I couldn’t even contemplate any action, and then I felt something knock into me from an entirely unexpected angle, and I was falling. Before my head could hit the pavement, something was cradling it, and I saw the Volvo swerve again, heard a deep thud like metal hitting metal. And then, against all probability, it swerved on the ice again, this time coming toward my head, and I was only aware of a cold, heavy weight and a beautiful voice swearing softly. My bag was still in my hand, and on impulse I threw it towards the wheel of the Volvo, where it stuck and the car stuttered to a stop mere inches from my head… and what looked like Hannibal Lecter’s hand, outstretched as though he had intended to push the car away.

It was silent for a long moment- a moment when my blue eyes met a pair of panicked maroon ones. Hannibal was cradling me, breathing hard, hand still poised as though to restrain the car that had been so menacing moments before. And then the lot erupted with cries of alarm, cell phones being shouted into. Amid all the emerging chaos, Hannibal leaned over, his buttery accent in my ear. 

“Will- William, are you all right?”

“I… I’m fine. I think I’m fine. You-”

Hannibal cut me off. “Be careful, Will, you hit your hard very hard.” 

I frowned. “No, I didn’t, you-”

“WILL.” Hannibal hissed. “Please listen to me. You hit your head very hard.”

I swallowed and nodded. For whatever reason, it was important that I had hit my head. Even though his hand was still supporting it like I was his child. Or, more intimately, like I was his lover. 

I sat up, and Hannibal stood, offering his hand. Other students were around us now, so I knew my questions would have to wait until later.

Like how did he get over to me so fast? Had he PUSHED the car out of the way? It was all so unbelievable.

Maybe I had hit my head. What I was thinking was crazy.

I didn’t have time to think on it more, though, as Beverly and Jimmy had made their way into the center of the fray, and Bev was taking command. “Someone get Georgia out of the car!” she shouted, and a boy I knew was named Peter helped her out. A thin line of blood went down her forehead- it looked like she’d knocked her head on the dashboard. I moved to look at her- then fell back, oddly faint.

Hannibal caught me. “Don’t try to move, Will, you may be in shock.”

I was up against his chest now, my lips close enough to his ear to whisper. “Do you promise to explain everything to me later?”

His eyes softened, and a hand came about my waist. “I promise. Just be still for now.” I leaned into his embrace. Despite the mayhem surrounding us, his touch put me at peace.

The EMTs arrived, and insisted Georgia and I be taken to the hospital in stretchers. Hannibal had somehow managed to refuse his, and I had tried to as well- then the asshole mentioned again how ‘hard I’d hit my head,’ and I found myself on my back, being helplessly carried by two grown men. The entirety of the school was there by now to witness this, and I glowered at Hannibal while he smirked. 

While they were loading us all in, I looked behind Hannibal, only to see his siblings had formed a small huddle at the edge of the crowd, Tobias having joined them at some point. They were all staring at Hannibal, with looks ranging from the truly murderous (Tobias)- to amazed (Clarice.) What none of them looked was even a little bit concerned for their brother, who had just stood in between two cars that looked as though they were destined to collide. 

Hannibal saw me staring, and turned to look- and his lips flattened into a thin line. He met Tobias’ eyes, with a look I could only describe as warning.

The doors closed, and the ambulance took off at a frantic clip. I felt ridiculous, but Hannibal reached down and held my hand the whole way. 

I guess I could pretend to have a concussion, if this was the trade off.

***

Once we arrived, I was ushered into an emergency room. I was fitted with a truly unnecessary neck brace, and my temperature and blood pressure were taken. However, and when the nurse walked away I disposed of the brace and threw it under the bed. 

The girl named Georgia was brought in next, a black bruise darkening her pretty face and blood drying on her cheeks and over her eye. She turned to me, anxious and sincere. 

“I am SO sorry! It’s my first time driving in the snow since I got my license, I just didn’t-”

“I’m fine, are you alright?” I cut her off. I was fine, but she looked like she’d been through the wringer. 

She smiled ruefully. “Oh, I’m fine. I bet it’s just not much of a pretty sight.”

“You look very pretty. Just a little bloody.” She smiled at that, and I heard someone clear their throat behind me. Hannibal was leaning in the doorway, looking like the picture of health. He also looked a little jealous, I thought with no small amount of satisfaction.

Georgia flushed when she saw him, anxiety returning. “Hannibal! Are you alright? I didn’t even see you at first, it all happened so fast.”

I fixed my eyes on Hannibal before he could reply. “I was lucky he was there, he pushed me out of the way.”

Hannibal looked at me blankly, then turned to Georgia. “It’s quite alright, Georgia. No blood, no foul.” He grinned, as though making a private joke. 

“How come you’re not on one of these beds?” I asked him, unable to keep the accusation out of my voice.

He smiled fully at that, wickedly. “It’s all about who you know. Lucky for you, I know people in high places. I’ve come to set you free.”

Then a doctor appeared behind him, and I knew without anyone telling me that this was Dr. Lecter, Hannibal’s adopted father. Oddly enough, they even looked at bit alike- Dr. Lecter was shorter, with one eye brown and one blue, but he had the same aristocratic lift to his chin, the same crafted cheekbones. He was also the most beautiful older man I’d ever seen, and if there was anything I had come to expect from the Lecter clan by now, it was a haunting, unparalleled beauty. 

“This must be Mr. Graham,” he said looking at me, his smile almost feline. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” and I couldn’t keep the whine out of my voice. I wasn’t used to being fussed over. 

His smile turned indulgent. “Well, let me just take a look.” His fingers moved over my head, as cool as Hannibal’s, who, I noticed, stiffened slightly when his father touched me. Dr. Lecter had me look into a light, follow its movements. And since I hadn’t actually hit my head, everything was fine. 

“Your father is in the waiting room,” Dr. Lecter advised. “You can go home with him, but do come back if you experience any dizziness or fainting.” 

“Ugh, can’t I just go back to school? I swear to you, I’m fine.”

Dr. Lecter chuckled. “Most kids would take the excuse to stay home.”

I frowned, and pointed childishly at Hannibal, “Does HE get to go back to school?”

Hannibal smirked and responded, “Will, who else will spread the tale of my heroism, your bravery and Ms. Madchen’s strength?”

“Fine,” I glowered at Hannibal. “I’ll go home.” I turned to Dr. Lecter then. “Thank you very much, I promise I’ll come back if I experience any pain.” Which I wouldn’t, because I hadn’t hit my head, but I was lying for his handsome liar of a son.

“Very good, William.” Dr. Lecter smiled at me, then looked at Georgia. “Now, you, Ms. Madchen, it looks like we should do a few tests on you.”

I stood, and as I passed Hannibal, I hissed, “Hallway. You. Now.” He blinked at me blandly, but followed me nevertheless. 

Once we were out in the hall, and the door was safely closed behind us, I pounced. “Now why in the world am I lying about hitting my head?”

Hannibal kept the same impassive expression on his face, but his lip quirked slightly. “It wouldn’t be believable if you hadn’t been harmed a little.”

That was… not an answer. “And why do we need it to be believable? What happened back there, Hannibal? You were all the way across the lot, and then you weren’t, and I’m alive and I’m pretty sure I should be dead right now.”

Hannibal swallowed hard at that. “Can’t it be enough that I made it so that you are alive, when otherwise you would not be?”

I softened a little at that. “Hannibal, I’m not mad, I’m just confused, and I don’t like lying. So… why am I lying?”

Hannibal’s gaze moved from me to something down the hall for a brief moment, and then he moved closer to me, his tone intense. “Believe me, Will, if it were up to me, I would tell you all. However, things are NOT only up to me right now. Please, please just go along with what I saw. Trust me.” 

I felt my bottom lip start to quiver, then bit it back. “But you promised,” I said stubbornly. 

His gaze shifted behind me again, his eyes turning hard for a moment, then they were back on me again, warm, soft and possessive all at once. 

“And I always keep my promises, Will. Always. Please be patient.” 

He was so close. I fought the urge to bring my lips up to his, angry and wanting and confused, and took a step back. 

“Fine. But please just don’t lie to me.”

“I haven’t,” he replied. “I won’t.

He stalked past me then, and when I turned I saw what had made his eyes so hard before. Tobias was at the end of the hall, gaze fixed on Hannibal, and he was livid. He looked at Hannibal as Hannibal had looked at me that first day in Science class- as though he could kill him. As though he would kill him. He glared at me briefly, then when Hannibal reached him, Hannibal grabbed Tobias' arm and they disappeared around the corner together.

What on earth was going on?

I took a few moments to collect myself, then pushed myself out into the waiting room, where I saw Beau, and behind him Beverly, Jimmy, Brian and some of the others from school. Beau looked as emotional as I’ve ever seen him, which is not very, but any emotion at all is unusual for him. 

He stalked over to me before the kids from school could, a fact for which I was grateful. “You doing okay, son?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, just hit my head a little.”

Beau relaxed slightly. It might sound silly, it’s not like I hadn’t know that Beau loved me, but seeing it made me feel… weirdly warm. Like I belonged somewhere. “Well, that’s good. Uh, when we get home, you might, uh… you might wanna call your Gram. She was pretty upset.”

My shoulders sagged, and for the first time that day, I felt truly defeated. “You called Grams?”

***

Beau and I managed to get out of the waiting room with a minimal fussing from my classmates, and when I got home, I gave Grams a call and managed to talk her out of getting on a plane and bringing me back to St. Rose- reminding her that, you know, cars are everywhere, but as far as I knew only New Orleans had a serial killer who knew me by name. Once I pointed that out, and assured her several times I was fine, she settled down and asked maybe a little too sweetly, “And who is Hannibal?”

I may have mentioned his name a few times while explaining. God, I must have had it really bad if Grams picked up on it over the phone. “Hannibal is… well, he is strange and very smart and very stubborn.”

Grams just laughed. “He sounds perfect for you.”

“GOODBYE,” I said gruffly, and hung up. Even though I could admit I didn’t disagree with her.

What had happened today? How had he done it? Why had he done it?

I drifted off to sleep that night, still going over it in my mind. And it was the first night I dreamed of Hannibal Lecter.


	5. Shall We Dance?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Who will win in the fight for Will Graham? With the big school dance just around the corner, it won’t be long until we see who arrives with the blue-eyed junior on their arm- and who will end up dancing by themselves. Tattle Crime will be here, keeping everyone in the know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one may be RIDDLED with errors, because I am working full time and going to school and EXHAUSTED. But it is all good, crack fun, and I hope you enjoy. Big thanks to @AGlassRoseNeverFades for pointing out an error in the last chapter! I love you all.

My dream was dark, but that wasn’t a surprise, most of my dreams were, at least tonally. 

I was in the woods near Beau’s farmhouse, and it was night. Snow was thick on the ground, covering the world in a noiseless blanket of white, only penetrated by the darkness of the trees and the dim glow of starlight. I was looking for something- that much I knew- but I didn’t know what.

Through the fortress of snow and tree, the snap of a twig sounded like a gunshot- crisp and distinct. I turned towards the noise, and saw a shadow showing even in the dark of the forest. It was sleek, and familiar. I moved towards the shadow, which stole deeper into the woods. Unquestioningly, I followed.

The trees seemed to get thicker and thicker as I tracked that silent shape through the branches. The shape moved faster and faster, almost inhumanly fast- but I kept pace, moved like I was meant to find whoever, or whatever, made that beautiful dark outline in the snow. Then, without warning, the trees gave way to a clearing, almost bright in the open whiteness and the stars reflecting off its surface. Reflecting bright enough that I could clearly see Hannibal Lecter in its center, holding a figure that looked almost human, his form hunched over it violently. As I stood there, he lifted his head, and blood adorned his gorgeous and full mouth. Locking his gaze onto mine, he smiled, and it was beautiful. 

I awoke reaching out for him without hesitation.

God, even in my dreams I couldn’t keep away from him.

It was almost too early to get up, but once awakened I knew there was no use trying to sleep again. I was too anxious about school the next day- I hated being the center of attention in the best of circumstances, and being fixated on because the most beautiful boy in school saved me from a certain death which I had to LIE about what not what I would call the ‘best of circumstances.’ Especially since it’s not like I hadn’t already had my share of (totally unwanted) admirers to begin with.

But at least I would see Hannibal. And maybe he would finally explain what was going on.

I got up, let the dogs out, and got ready. With a wince, I remembered that I’d flung my bag at that Volvo wheel to stop the wheel from spinning… and never gotten the wreckage of my belongings back. Luckily, I’d had my keys and my phone in my pocket, and Beau had brought the truck home, but all my school work was in that bag. I signed as I imagined starting all my assignments from scratch.

Gradually though, as I drank my coffee and got ready, my mood started to lift. I knew in no small part, it was due to the promise of seeing Hannibal. Just the thought of his finely sculpted face made me feel simultaneously energized and relaxed. Even if I was still (a little) furious with him.

And who knows, maybe something equally dramatic had happened in my absence, I told myself. Maybe everyone would have moved on to the next biggests piece of news.

***

No one had forgotten about what happened, and indeed it was still front-page news. Literally.

Beverly was waiting for me on the steps when I arrived- given that I had gleaned she had an intense dislike for both mornings and cold air, I knew she had to have bad news for me.

I stopped just in front of her, sighing and dropping my shoulders. “Hit me with it.”

She gave me a sympathetic look. “Well, I have good news and bad news for you. Which do you want first?”

“The bad. Let’s just rip this band aid off.”

“Well, the BAD is easier if I just show you.” She pulled out her phone, and brought up the most 90’s looking website I’d ever seen. In fact, I was just guessing this was what the 90’s looked like. It’s not like I’d been around for them. Up at the top, in big letters, was “TATTLE CRIME.”

And underneath that, side by side, was a picture of Mason Verger looming over me, and then a picture of me leaning into Hannibal after the crash yesterday. 

“New Kid on the Block, Will Graham- Breaking Hearts (and Bones)” was the truly horrific headline.

“Will Graham may be new on the scene here at Chilton Prep, but he’s already got two very in-demand BMOC vying for his attention- Mason Verger, heir to the Verger fortune, and Hannibal Lecter, enigmatic junior, richer than God, who the entire school has been lusting after ever since HE was the new kid last year. They’ve already been spotted verbally sparring over who gets to walk the little hottie to class- and Will was NOT coy about which is his suitors he prefers. I wonder if anyone has told him that Mason Verger does NOT take ‘NO’ for an answer. 

And it seems that prime Chilton hunk is not all he attracts- danger seems to find this cutie like a magnet. 

Yesterday, Georgia Madchen lost control of her vehicle, and it headed right towards new boy Will Graham- luckily for him, Hannibal Lecter can’t stay away from him, and he pulled the brunette bombshell away from a certain death. 

Who will win in the fight for Will Graham? With the big school dance just around the corner, it won’t be long until we see who arrives with the blue-eyed junior on their arm- and who will end up dancing by themselves. Tattle Crime will be here, keeping everyone in the know. 

XOXO,   
Freddie”

Oh my God, if only the earth could have opened up and swallowed me whole. 

“The little hottie? Which suitor I prefer? BRUNETTE BOMBSHELL?” I somehow hissed and shrieked at the same time. This redheaded snake had turned my life into a CW teen drama.

… the sad thing is, she was only slightly exaggerating.

“It’s Freddie Lounds, man, she’s insatiable, and ridiculous. Just try and lay low the next few days- she’ll get distracted,” was Beverly’s attempt to comfort me. I’d only been there a weak and a half and even I knew that no one, especially Freddie Lounds, was going to lose interest in a ‘love triangle’ that involved both Mason Verger and Hannibal Lecter. Even though calling it a triangle made it sound like there was any chance in hell I would be interested in Mason.

“She is never letting this one go. Well, give me the good news at least?”

Beverly grinned, and produced my totally shredded bag from behind her back. “I managed to get this for you? I think the innards are actually pretty in tact, concerning they got caught in Georgia’s tire.” 

“At least I won’t have to totally start over on schoolwork.” I would obviously need a new bag, though. I wondered if Beau had any spare. 

“See, look at you, finding the silver lining!” Beverly encouraged.

“I think I’d like to find the nearest body of water and wade into it,” I responded with a grimace.

“Will, it’s winter, everything’s frozen. Use your head.” I couldn’t help but laugh. Beverly was good at peopling, there was no denying that. “Come on, let’s at least get inside, get some coffee and get to homeroom. You just need to wait it out, and sooner or later people will lose interest.”

***

They were certainly not losing interest that day, that was for sure. Everywhere I went, I felt eyes on me, whispers behind hands. It seemed that the article changed focus from ‘how I’d survived’ to ‘who I was going to date’, which I knew probably served Hannibal’s odd, secretive purposes very well, but it was humiliating for me. Especially since I didn’t know for sure if Hannibal felt the same way I did. (Which was sick, obsessive, pining longing.)

Speaking of Hannibal, I didn’t see him until lunch, by which point I was a permanently deep shade of red, and sticking to Beverly and Brian like they would somehow shield me from the curious gazes of the rest of the student body. When I reached the lunch room, planted firmly between my two bodyguards, my gaze immediately shifted to the table that normally held the Lecter clan. Thank god i hadn’t gotten any lunch yet, or I would have dropped it like a fool again.

Because they were all looking at me. Not all at once- they were too discreet for that- but one by one I saw them turn their eyes on me. Tobias was still dark and furious; Franklyn’s gaze was oddly pitying; Clarice was curious and warm; Mischa was considering. The only one whose eyes didn’t meet mine were Hannibal’s, which were of course the only eyes I cared about. He kept his face decidedly angled away from me, although I could see a sad tightness to his lips, a slight turn down that spoke to a feeling of reluctance. The deprivation of his eye contact made me once again long to wade into a body of water.

Strange, how this boy could make me want things foreign to my very nature. Eye contact. Touch. Conversation.

I knew I couldn’t spend the whole lunch period just staring at Hannibal’s profile, willing him to look at me, so I forced myself to look around the lunchroom. Lots of other eyes found mine- one welcome pair. Sweet faced Georgia Machen waved shyly, the bandage on her forehead not making her any less pretty. I waved back, making a mental note that I should check in on her, before turning my attention to my table. Alana, Margot, Brian, Jimmy and Beverly were all nice enough to keep the questions to a bare minimum.

“How are you feeling, Will?” Alana asked, blue eyes wide with concern. Margot nodded sympathetically.

“Honestly, I’m more upset about Freddie Lounds than I am about Georgia’s Volvo.”

“I don’t blame you,” Jimmy interjected. “That was some teen-drama worthy new reporting. Had to have pissed Mason off.”

“Mason was… not happy.” Margot volunteered. “But I think he was even less happy that Hannibal got to play hero yesterday.”  
“Fat lot of good its doing me,” I muttered, unaware I’d said it outloud.

“Do you have the hots for Hannibal, Will?” Beverly squealed. I wanted to be angry, but I really couldn’t blame her. I HAD said that outloud, after all. 

“I barely know him, Bev,” I deflected. I didn’t miss the brief look of relief that passed over Alana’s face, and the answering slight frown that found its way to Margot’s. 

Oh, no. That wasn’t what I wanted at all.

I was distracted from this new bit of information when Georgia appeared at our table. I remembered vaguely that she had Science next, with Jimmy and I.

With Hannibal and I. My stomach did a flip-flop when I thought about sitting next to him for 80 minutes.

“Hey everyone! Will, how are you doing?” Her concern was genuine, her manner open. I liked her very much.

“Just fine, Georgia- how about you?”

She shrugged and smiled. “A little banged up, but I’m gonna make it. Say, would you walk with me to Science? I want to talk to you about something.” 

I looked over at Jimmy, who I normally walked with, who nodded and shrugged lightly. I turned back to Georgia and stood up. “I am at your disposal.”

I could sense she was nervous, but I figured it was because of the almost killing me thing. So my stomach didn’t drop until I heard her throaty little voice say, “I noticed you right away, of course- but I didn’t know how nice you are until yesterday. I know you’ve probably got a lot of offers- and, and I don’t know if anything Freddie said about you and Mason or you and Hannibal is true- but if you wanted to go to the dance next week, I’d love to go with you.” She was blushing bright red by the end. 

And maybe if I’d never met Hannibal, I’d be interested. She was sweet and kind, and unassuming, and unlikely to ever take advantage of me. I could see a better version of myself in her eyes. But I had met Hannibal. And I knew I couldn’t lead this girl on now.

“Oh, Georgia, I would love to. But the thing is…”

‘The thing is I am madly in lust and maybe in love with our weirdo classmate who may or may not want nothing to do with me, and I’m prepared to wait here patiently for death until he comes to me,’ is what I thought.

“... I’ve already planned to go to DC that weekend,” is what came out.  
God, that was not even a good lie. Because I wasn’t a good liar. Seems that being about Hannibal was turning me into someone who tried, though.

“Oh.” Her reply was small and sad, so I kept going. 

“Yeah, I planned it all out with my dad, like a… bonding trip. Since we’ve lived apart for so long. To help us get to know each other.” 

That actually… that was actually a pretty good lie. I was a little disappointed in myself. But Georgia’s smile lit up her face, so I knew it was probably for that best. We had reached Science by now, and we lingered near the door for a moment… in my case, to avoid seeing Hannibal. He was already seated at our table, and while he may have been ignoring me before, I felt his eyes practically burning into me now. It felt… charged.

“Oh, of course- that sounds fun. I’m glad you get to do that!” We were at my desk now, and I slid into my seat and smiled at Georgia. 

“But can all hang out sometime, right? People were talking about going to the lake this weekend. I’ll talk to you about it later!” She left me and headed to her desk. Leaving me with Hannibal, whose dark eyes were fixed sharply on me.

“Hello, Will,” he said in greeting. I turned to return his gaze. 

“Hello, Hannibal,” I responded. “Are you acknowledging me now.”

He stiffened slightly, then his chin tilted down. “I expect you are referring my behavior in the lunch hall.”

“To be fair, you didn’t really do anything. You didn’t even look at me.” I retorted. “Do you regret saving me so much?” I was being unfair, and I knew it. But I didn’t like him ignoring me. Not one little bit. His face turned ashen.

“Regret? Will, you shouldn’t say such things. You don’t understand what I did yesterday.”

“Well then maybe you should explain it to me,” I snapped back.

Hannibal’s frown deepened. “I have already explained that these things are not all within my control at the moment.” I didn’t respond. I knew he had said all this before, but I still hated being kept in the dark.

After a moment, he spoke again. “So you are travelling to DC?” 

I blinked and looked at him slowly. “How did you know that?”

He flinched- it was minute, but I still saw it. “You were right outside the door when you informed Ms. Madchen of your plans the weekend of the dance. I just happen to have excellent hearing, Will.”

Something was off. No one could have heard that. I hadn’t specified anything about the dance anywhere near the door. And he knew about St. Rose, too. I was certain I hadn’t said anything to anyone. How did he know these things?

My temper got the best of me. “How about you just talk to me when you’re ready to tell me what’s REALLY going on, huh?” I turned my gaze straight ahead so I wouldn’t have to see his reaction. Fate was on my side, as size, as Dr. Sutcliffe chose to finally start class at that moment. I did my best to keep my attention on the lecture, but it was difficult when I felt how Hannibal’s gaze never left me. I apparently was not the only one, either, as midway through class Dr. Sutcliffe stopped mid-sentence and called out, “And what would the name for that cycle be, Mr. Lecter?”

“The Kreb’s Cycle,” Hannibal hissed out. I could hear in his face that his head never moved. Dr. Sutcliffe sighed, muttered something under his breath, and moved on. 

The period finally ended, and before Hannibal could open his mouth again, I was already out the door. I knew it was a habit of mine to punish people by withdrawing- but I couldn’t help it. If he wanted me to be open with him, he’d have to be open with me.

Unfortunately, I was moving so quickly I almost ran over Alana, who was waiting outside the door. “Alana, God, I’m so sorry! I, uh-”

Alana interrupted me with a smile. “No need to be sorry, it’s what I get for lurking in doorways. I thought maybe I might walk you to your next class?” My stomach started to do that sink again- then I saw that Mason Verger was standing not too far away, watching our exchange with interest. Hannibal was also lingering near the door, his eyes nearly black and his expression tight and not a little jealous. I needed to get away before Freddie Lounds got a picture of this.

“Absolutely. Let’s get out of here.” 

We talked pleasantly on the way to the gym- Alana was good at small talk, and she was interesting, funny, and kind. I’d noticed her to be a little rigid, so far, but nothing too bad. I started to think maybe I’d misjudged her motivations in seeking me out when she said, “I thought maybe Georgia Madchen was going to ask you to the dance.”

And here it was. “You thought correctly. I told her I can’t go, though. I’m going to DC that weekend with my dad.” The lie came easier this time.

Alana’s lips pursed. “I see. And was that the truth, or were you letting her down easily?”

I felt my mouth twitch at being called out. “Why can’t it be both?”  
Alana’s cheeks flushed pink, and the purse didn’t quite leave her mouth. “I had been thinking maybe we could go together.”

We were nearly at the gym door, so I pulled Alana to the side of the hall and lowered my face to her ear. “I think Margot would kill me if she knew I was saying this, but I think maybe you ought to ask her to the dance.” Alana pulled away from me in surprise, eyes widening. 

“Margot…? I didn’t think… we’ve known each other for so long.” She didn’t look like she disliked the idea at all though. Quite the contrary. 

“Just think it over- I personally think you’d make quite a pair.” I gave her a smile, which she answered with her own and thanked me. Another friendship still in tact. I was not doing badly today.

Gym was… uneventful, except I could feel Mason Verger looking at me and it made my skin crawl. I was neither good or bad at sports- I had some natural strength and speed, but didn’t particularly care about applying it to organized activities- so it’s not like there was anything special for him to be looking at. I dreading returning to the locker room.

Which was the correct feeling to have, as Mason cornered me almost as soon as I had my clothes back on. I was shocked he extended me that courtesy, to be honest.

“Willy, how are you feeling? That was quite a spill you took. Quite a spill. Luckily Hannibal was there, huh?”

“Yes, thank God for that.” If only Hannibal was here now, I thought. Not current Hannibal, with weird secrets and a stupid, closed off, perfect face, but Hannibal who said things I had thought only in my head.

“I hope you’re not too banged up,” he continued. “I had been thinking maybe we could start over at the dance next-” I grabbed my tattered bag and cut him off. 

“Mason, I would rather kill you and myself than go to the dance with you, if that’s what you’re driving at. Please go foist your attentions on someone else.” I shoved past him and made a beeline for the door and the parking lot- I couldn’t wait for this day to end.

Of course that was a vain hope to hold, because as soon as I got out into the cool afternoon air, I saw Hannibal leaning against the side of my monster of a truck, a smile gracing his lips for the first time since I’d seen him at the hospital. Was that only the day before? It seemed like ages ago.

“Hello, Will.”

“Hello, Hannibal. Any particular reason you’re blocking my door? Would you like to make a cryptic remark? Maybe you’re going to sigh loudly?” He greeted my bad humor by widening his smile.

“Not at all, Will. I was going to ask you if, next Saturday- you know, the night of the dance-”

“You have got to be kidding me,” I interrupted him, full of irritation. His smile was positively gleeful now. 

“I assure you I am not. I was wondering if I could accompany you… to DC.”

I paused. “I still don’t know how you know that. And I told you, until you’re ready to tell me what’s going on, don’t talk to me.”

“Oh, now, I think I finally thought of a way around all this.” His hands, which had been folded so neatly in front of him, came up to my face, and I didn’t have the strength not to lean into his touch. His hands were cool, even in the winter air. His smile softened and his thumb traced my cheekbone.

“Oh yeah? I’m all ears,” I managed to choke out.

“I may not be able to tell you anything directly… but I don’t see any reason you couldn’t guess.” He was gazing at me, rapt, one hand making its way to my neck, the other continuing to caress my face.

“Like a game,” I responded.

“Like a conversation,” he corrected. “I’ll ask you things, you ask me things. One exchange for another. Quid pro quo. Anything I cannot answer directly, you shall guess and I can let you know if you are correct.” 

I became aware that other students were trickling out, and that our exchange was being viewed by interest. I reluctantly pulled away, skin burning where his hands had been. His hands folded neatly again in front of him, but his eyes remained heated.

“So, what, you want to try… being friends?” I chickened out at the last moment. Like friendship was what I had on my mind when he made my stomach coil like that.

“Will Graham is… my friend,” he tried out, stumbling over the word like he was learning a new language.

“Is that such a foreign concept?”

“I think it would be best if we weren’t… friends. But I find myself wanting it very much.” He lifted himself away from my truck door then, opening it so that I could get in. But instead of closing the door once I was settled, he leaned in voice hot and heavy in my ear as his lips grazed the flesh there. 

“And of course, I knew I had to act quickly- three dance invitations in one day! I can’t have someone else stealing you away.” I jerked away, staring at the wicked grin on his ridiculously handsome face.

“No one’s hearing is that good. And we are gonna talk about that. Do I get a guess now?”  
“Patience, dear Will. We’re not playing yet. Or maybe we started playing a long time ago.” He was absurd.

“You are the worst, and the light of friendship will never reach us for a thousand years if you keep this up. Let me get on my way now, please.” The picture of courtesy, he stepped back, and I slammed the door in retaliation.

I could see him laughing in my rearview mirror as I drove off.


	6. Bleeding Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And so he was- seated at a table all by himself, leaning back casually against his chair, looking for all the world like a young god surveying his domain. When our eyes met, his mouth curved wickedly, and he curled a finger to beckon me to him.
> 
> It was obscene. It couldn’t have been more provocative than if he’d licked his lips, or palmed himself in public. Horrifically, I felt an answering pulse in my groin.
> 
> Beverly gawked. “Oh my god, he means YOU, Graham! Don’t keep that hunk waiting- go over there!” She squealed, shoving me towards him. I felt his eyes on me every step of the way."
> 
> Hannibal and will have lunch, and then Will faints and Hannibal gets to drive him home.

I spent the rest of the evening in a haze. I drove home, did my homework, drove to the diner, all completely unaware of the world around me- until Beau called me out on it.

“Never known you to act starry-eyed, kid,” he commented, hammering at a bottle of ketchup to counteract gravity and launch it onto his diner fries. “Might as well be having dinner alone.”

I felt a twinge of guilt- Beau didn’t ask a lot of me, the least I could do was make small talk with him over dinner.

I should have known something was off then- normally would have known, if I hadn’t been so wrapped up in the idea of Hannibal’s warm brown eyes. Beau wasn’t never one for small talk.

“I’m sorry, Dad- how was... work?” We never talked about his job, but I couldn’t think of another question. 

He shifted in his chair, and I could see now that he was clearly discomitted. “No, I’m sorry. I’m riled up, and took it out on you. Too used to being on my own.”

I didn’t say anything, just looked at him. I’d know that. He knew I’d known that. So what was riling him up?

Seeing my understanding on my face, he sighed and continued. “I don’t want to worry you- and I DON’T want to involve you, no matter what anyone from any Bureau thinks.”

Honestly, nothing could have worried me MORE than the involvement of the FBI. “Dad, just tell me- I’m a minor, and you’re my dad. No one can make us do anything we don’t want to do… right?”

Beau had my bad habit of avoiding eye contact- or perhaps it would be more accurate to say, I had Beau’s bad habit of avoiding eye contact- and right then it was like his eyes were glued to his dinner plate. “There’s nothing definitive. Just been some animal attacks. They started in Virginia, a little further south. Came a little closer to home a few days ago- today, it happened just outside of Seneca.”

“Today it crossed state lines,” I murmured. Which, if these were crimes, would mean it was FBI territory. “But you said these were animal attacks.”  
“Well, now, that’s sure what it looks like. Vicious. But it’s moving fast. In a line. FBI thinks its on a trail.”

“Through this area? To Seneca Falls? Nothing’s out there but the school.” I let the silence hang between us for a second.

“I’m at the school.” I swallowed hard, a sharp toothed image clawing at the back of my vision.

The Dragon.

“Now, I know what you’re thinking- NOLA police have no reason to think that he’s left. And these don’t look like a person could do it. Spring thaw is just around the corner here- could be a lot of things. When it happens early, or it stops and starts, it always upsets things. That’s what I told that Agent- Crawford. He knows you, apparently Chief Swanson had sent word where you’d be. He wants you to look over some pictures. I told him I didn’t want you to, but it’s up to you. My job is to keep you safe, not to make your mind up for you.”

I knew he meant it. I appreciated Beau at that moment- Grams would be torn between moral duty to others, and keeping me safe. Beau knew what it was to battle both personally- he wouldn’t push me either way.

“Can I think about it?”

“Of course you can. No one’s gonna make you do anything you don’t want to- they’ll have to get through me first.” Once again, I was struck by how nice it was to have a parent who would stand between you and the world. I felt… not safe, but looked after, and it was nice.

“Now who is it that’s making you all moony-eyed?”

I grimaced, and then glared. “C’mon, Beau, really?”

He chuckled at that. “Beau? I guess you’ve really got it bad.” My glared intensified, and he laughed just a little harder and threw his hands up in surrender. “Like I said, kid, no one’s gonna make you do anything you don’t want to do. Or say anything you don’t want to say.”

I relaxed, and turned back to my food. 

“But you really do have it bad.”

I flung a french fry in his face, and stuck out my tongue.

***

I dreamed of Hannibal again last night. This time, we were lying in a field, side by side, arms spread wide, fingers almost touching. Our eyes were locked, and his lips had been curved into a gentle smile. I felt my on mouth curving in an answer. The sun moved over the field, and Hannibal turned his face to greet it, a strange… hard sheen coming over his features-

And then I woke up, and it felt like my body was on fire. The air was still cool out, and it felt charged against my skin. And I knew I wouldn’t feel settled until my eyes settled on him again.

When I got into the lot that morning, the Bentley was already there- I kept my eyes peeled, but there was not a glimpse of Hannibal to be seen. I saw Beverly, Brian and Jimmy, and we discussed Team Sassy Science while we wait for the first bell- for the first time in my life, people were excited to hear about my thoughts on insect activity in decomposing bodies- and then Beverly and I went to homeroom. My body fairly thrummed with the thought- ‘Find Hannibal, SEE Hannibal.” 

Needless to say, the first two periods passed in a slow agony. Luckily, I had pretty much already polished off the assigned reading list, so I could fake it through Ms. Komeda’s class. History was a little trickier, and I got caught staring out the window, imagining Hannibal in that field again. 

“Mr. Graham? Perhaps the answer is outside this room?” Mr. Ingram called out, his strange smile that never reached his eyes painted on his face. I tried to remember what we’d been talking about. The War of 1812?

“Uh, the Treaty of Ghent?” I took a stab in the dark.

Mr. Ingram’s smile did not drop. “You’re ahead of us, Mr. Graham. Please try and stay with the rest of the class. I assure you, even you have things to learn here.” There were a few odd titters around the classroom, and I felt my cheeks shade red.

I’d have to keep an eye on Mr. Ingram- something about him was off. Slightly sadistic. I filed the feeling away for later examination.

And then, finally, there was lunch. Where there would be Hannibal. I practically dragged Beverly towards the lunch hall, where my gaze immediately sought out the Lecters usual table. Only four sat where there should have been five. Mischa, Clarice, and Franklyn all looked slightly subdued, and Tobias’ expression was remarkably bland. I had never seen his face so devoid of emotion. And Hannibal was nowhere to be seen.

I could feel my face begin to fall. Maybe he’d changed his mind on his offer of friendship. Maybe he’d disappeared again. The object of my affection had proven unknowable and mercurial before- why should this time be different?

Dejectedly, I started to move towards our regular table, when Beverly nudged me. She had an excited, mischievous look in her eyes as her chin jutted to direct my eyesight to another table. “Hannibal Lecter is staring at you again!”

And so he was- seated at a table all by himself, leaning back casually against his chair, looking for all the world like a young god surveying his domain. When our eyes met, his mouth curved wickedly, and he curled a finger to beckon me to him.

It was obscene. It couldn’t have been more provocative than if he’d licked his lips, or palmed himself in public. Horrifically, I felt an answering pulse in my groin.

Beverly gawked. “Oh my god, he means YOU, Graham! Don’t keep that hunk waiting- go over there!” She squealed, shoving me towards him. I felt his eyes on me every step of the way.

“May I have the pleasure of your company today?” He asked as I drew near, pulling the chair next to him even closer. I sat down, our knees brushing one another under the table, while I prayed not to faint in public from the contact.

“So you’re still speaking to me.”

“Naturally I’m still speaking to you. I think it’s fairly clear at this point that I cannot stay away from you- and if I am going to go to hell, I might as well do it thoroughly.” His lips twitched into a smile slightly, as though what he had said was funny.

“Is that where we are going? Hell? I thought we were going to D.C.” I tried joking in return.

“You’ve obviously never been in the summer. I assure you, the temperatures reach heights to the point where it is not dissimilar.” He smiled again. “Your friends are delighted at this development. They think you ought to ‘go for it,’ as it were.”

I ventured a glance at my normal table, where Beverly gave me a thumbs up, while Brian mouthed, ‘Good job!’ to me. Mortified, I turned my eyes to the Lecter table, where the sight of us together seemed to drum up far less enthusiasm.

“Seem your family doesn’t feel the same way. I think they’re mad at me for stealing you,” I informed him.

“It’s not stealing if I give myself freely,” Hannibal replied. “This was my idea.”

“I may not give you back, though,” I whispered, longing to reach out and cover his hand with my own.

Hannibal did was I did not have the courage to do, and his hand enveloped mine. “I hope you do not,” was his reply. Then he seemed to notice my lack of lunch, and frowned. “Not hungry today?”

How to tell that that my hunger today was of an entirely different nature? “I guess not,” I mumbled. Then, my stomach betrayed me in a totally impertinent manner by growling. Loudly.

His frown intensified. “You need to take care of yourself, Will.” Reaching into his bag, he produced two of the most expensive looking tupperware I’d ever seen. “Luckily for you, I have extra- I am very particular about what I put into my body, so I tend to make all my meals myself.”

Hesitantly, I opened the lid- and inside was one of the most beautiful meals I’d ever seen. It was a thick stew, artfully arranged over what looked to be mashed potatoes. Thyme sprigs were arranaged on top, with delicate curls made out of carrots finishing the dish. “This is beautiful.”

He handed me silverware- honestly, the boy traveled with silverware? And a napkin. “Nutritious as well. Please, begin.”

I took a bite, and couldn’t stop my eyes from rolling back in my head. “This is delicious, thank you.” Hannibal looked enormously pleased. 

“I thought we might continue our discussion from yesterday,” he stated, digging into his own container with an odd grace.

“Ah, yes,” I responded. “My guesses.”

“Do you have any ideas?” 

I snorted. “I have tons of guesses, none terribly rational.” He just looked at me blandly, clearing expecting me to continue. I sighed. “I’ve pondered radioactive spiders, and Kryptonite.”

Hannibal laughed softly. “That’s all superhero stuff, isn’t it?” When I nodded, his eyes turned considering. “What if I’m not the hero, then, Will?”

Realization settled over me. “What if you’re the bad guy?”

His lips turned into a thin line. “Precisely.”

I remembered the first day, how even despite Tobias’ palpable rage, I could sense Hannibal was the one with the real power. “Dangerous”, I whispered.

His lips drew even tighter. “Precisely.” He said again.

I tilted my head and considered him. He did not seem like any other predator I’d come across. He didn’t seem at the mercy of any urges. He was control consummate.

“Are you destructive, Hannibal?”  
“I did promise you answers,” He said, then paused, then continued. “Sometimes. I try not to be.”

“Do you consider destruction to be the same thing as evil?” Hannibal looked at me, startled. I continued. “Storms are evil, if it's that simple. We can’t be reduced to a set of influences.”

Hannibal looked at me like he’d never seen anything like me before. “Do you know how other people see you, Will?”

THAT startled me. “No, what?”

Hannibal’s eyes bore into mine. “They see the beauty of your face and they see your gentleness, and they think of you as a fragile little teacup, either to be procured as a possession or to be used with only the finest guests.”

I laughed- it sounded odd, but somehow also correct. “And how do you see me?”

His smile turned dark and sensual. “The mongoose I want under the house when the snake slithers by.”

My heart stopped for a moment, and I just looked at him, looking at me. Seeing me.

The bell rang and broke the spell. He sighed, and I swallowed. “We should go to class.”

He smiled then, and said, “You should go without me. I’m skipping today.”

I looked at him sharply. “You seem to do that a lot.”

“Sometimes playing hooky is good for you,” he stated simply.

***  
I knew Beau wouldn’t hold to Hannibal’s view of skipping class, so I reluctantly pulled myself away from him and went to Science class. I gave Georgia a smile when I got to my desk, studiously avoided Mason’s stares, and settled in to spend the afternoon trying desperately not to think about Hannibal. Dr. Sutcliffe came in, a number of cardboard boxes in his hands. 

His put them down on his desked, snapped a pair of plastic gloves on, and began. 

“Okay, everyone- today, we’re going to learn about typing blood. I’m going to pass around these boxes- take one item from each box. You should have a lancet, a four-pronged applicator, and an indicator card.”

I’d done blood-typing in St. Rose, and luckily, being at crime scenes had given me an iron stomach when it came to these sorts of things. So, needless to say, I was not expecting what happened next.

Dr. Sutcliffe went to the desk in front of me to drop water on the indicator cards, and the boy in front of me pricked his finger- and I saw red.

I saw red everywhere. I saw me, in a field, covered in blood. I saw Hannibal there too, also covered in blood. I saw us circling a monstrous figure together, me lunging in for the kill as Hannibal took his teeth, and plunged them into the monster’s throat-

Wait. Not a monster. Not exactly.

A dragon.

And then everything went black.

When I could open my eyes again, I saw three familiar figures sending over me- Georgia, Mason, and Dr. Sutcliffe. 

“There’s always one,” Dr. Sutcliffe muttered. “Mason, take Graham to the infirmary.” Mason looked triumphant. 

“Georgia,” I croaked out. “I want Georgia to take me.”

If looks could kill, Mason’s eyes would have reduced Georgia to ash. Dr. Sutcliffe just rolled his eyes. “Both of you can take him- just come right back.”

Georgia was already helping me up, and I squeezed her hand gratefully. I leaned on her slightly, and together we headed out of the classroom. Mason trailed after us, expression positively murderous.

“I didn’t realize you were so delicate, Willy- so genteel.” His tone was murderous, too. “And that’s exactly why you need a friend like me around. You don’t see Lecter here, do you?” Thankfully, his taunting was interrupted by a buttery, accented voice.

“What happened? Is he alright?” The tone was panicked, but I would know that voice anywhere.

Hannibal.

“He fainted in class. We’re typing blood, it must have made him sick,” Georgia supplied. Hannibal immediately was at the side Georgia was not, gathering my weight against him. 

“I can take it from here- I’m excused from class today, anyway.” Georgia looked uncertain, and Mason looked like he would burst a blood vessel in his eye. 

“Dr. Sutcliffe said we should take him to the nurse,” Mason hissed.

“I’m sure he’ll be happy to have you both back early. As I said, I will take it from here.” Then, as though to settle the argument, he lifted me bridal style into his arms as though I weighed nothing at all. I heard Mason shriek indignantly, “Well, fine! I’ll see you in gym, Will!”

It sounded like a threat. I might have been annoyed, if all my irritation wasn’t thoroughly tied up in the strange, strong boy carrying me.

I was going to have to kill Hannibal Lecter for this.

“What are you doing?” I insisted as soon as we were out of earshot, and wiggled my way out of his grasp, landing awkwardly on all fours at his feet. I scrambled to standing and glared at him, then lost my footing and stumbled back into him.

I guess I was still a bit faint. 

He chuckled, and let me lean on him while we walked. At least he didn’t insist on picking me back up. “I apologize for the theatrics. I just want to make sure you get to the nurse as soon as possible.” He chuckled again. “You faint at the sight of blood?”

“Of course I don’t,” I snapped. “I just-” I stopped myself. I couldn’t tell him this. He would think I was crazy. He looked at me again, serious. 

“Is everything truly alright, Will?” I softened at his tone. This was Hannibal, and he was my… friend. He was not trying to torment me. 

“I’m fine,” I replied. “I just think maybe I should go home.” I wanted to be in Wolf Trap. I wanted to be with the dogs, and the trees, and the river. 

Hannibal looked me hard in the face, and nodded. “As you wish.” He pulled me tighter against himself, and I shivered at the contact. “Look faint, and I will do the rest, Will.”

This was easy enough- I was tired from the spectacle, and I mean, I HAD really fainted. The nurse looked up in alarm when Hannibal opened the door. 

“Oh, my!” She exclaimed, and I learned harder again Hannibal. 

“He’s just a bit faint,” Hannibal explained. “It’s blood-typing day.”

“Ah, there is always one,” she muttered.

“Actually, William has gym next period- I don’t think he’ll be feeling up for it. Would you mind excusing him? I’d be happy to make sure he gets home myself.” He eyes fixed on her, and she seemed to melt underneath his gaze. I was both comforted and insanely jealous to know that I was not the only one who reacted to him that way.

“Oh, of course, Hannibal!” She exclaimed. “Will you need to be excused, too?”

Hannibal smiled, all politeness. “Oh, no, I have Ms. Komeda, she won’t mind.”

The charming little shit. 

“It’s all taken care of, then,” she said, handing me a slip of paper that I put into my pocket. “You feel better now, Will!”

I continued to lean on Hannibal until we got the to parking lot, where I pushed myself off him and then immediately longed to feel him against me again.

“Thanks, Hannibal. I got it from here.”

Hannibal pursed his lips. “You most certainly do not have it from here. I was very sincere in my offer to Mrs. Leeds- I will be seeing you home.”

I rubbed my hand over my face. “Hannibal, that is really not necessary.”

“It may not be necessary, but it is what is happening. If I have to choke you out, you are getting in my car and I am taking you home.”

I blinked at him. “You could do that?”

A smile broke across his face, and he said teasingly, “Don’t push me, or you will find out.”

I kind of wanted to find out, to be honest. “But my truck,” I offered weakly.

“I will take care of everything, Will.” We were standing by the Bentley by now, and I gave up all pretense of resistance, as I knew we’d be doing this his way. “Please, get in the car, William.”

I got in, and he followed suit, turning on the car and music started up with it. I blinked in surprise. “The Faure Requiem.”

Now it was Hannibal’s turn to blink in surprise. I liked that I was able to throw him off guard. “You know Faure?”

I scowled at him. “It’s 2018, Hannibal, and there is the internet- I like all sorts of music.” I let the music settle over me then, and I softened again. “But I really love Faure.”

Hannibal softened too, pleased at my enjoyment. “You are a constant source of unexpected delight, Will.” I felt my cheeks redden. 

We drove in silence for a bit, enjoying the music, enjoying each other. It felt oddly… domestic. Natural. Like we had been doing this for years.

Then Hannibal broke the lull. “If it was not the blood that caused you to become faint, may I asked what happened?”

I stiffened- I didn’t want to lie to him. But I couldn’t tell him. It wasn’t just me that was at stake here.

Then I realized how stupendously hypocritical I’d been before. I knew what it was like to have a secret and keep it for others.

“How about this- I can’t tell you, but you can guess.” Hannibal looked at me sideways, and I expected him to be angry- but instead he smiled.

“A secret, then,” he said slowly. “It seems we both have things we keep hidden. I must confess, I am jealous of any thought you might have that I can’t know about.” I relaxed, relieved. He understood. But of course he understood.

“Do you ever think,” I started, then stopped, then started again. “Are you ever struck that we seem… very similar?” 

“Exactly alike,” he replied, his teeth sharp in his smile.

“No, not exactly…” I said, then it came to me and it was out my mouth. “Identically different.” 

He hissed a breathe in through his teeth. “Yes.”

“Will, did you see something today?” Now it was my turn to inhale through my teeth. 

“You can’t know that.”

“Was it something good, or something bad?” His eyes were on the road, but his hands were knuckled white against the steering wheel.

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly.

“Do you see things often?”

“Not like this...I’m not crazy,” I insisted.

“I don’t think you are, Will. You could just be under a great deal of stress. If something is wrong, you can tell me. I am, after all, your friend.”

“I know that,” I answered, honestly again. I felt… I knew I could be open with him. I could try. “If I tell you something, do you promise not to tell anyone? Anyone at all? Not your family?”

He laughed at that, hands not relaxing against the wheel. “Will, I assure you, I am the soul of discretion. I don’t want you to feel you have to tell me anything you don’t want to, however. I require that we always honor every part of each other.”

“I want to tell you,” I corrected him. “I came here… because I had to. Because it’s not safe for me in St. Rose. There’s a bad guy- a real bad guy- and he’s looking for me there. Not here. So that’s why no one can know anything.”

Hannibal pursed his lips again. “Thank you for your candor, Will. I always know with you.” He continued, mind clearing turning over what I had said. “And this bad guy, he had something to do with what you saw.”

“He does,” I confirmed.

By now we were turning up the long driveway in Wolf Trap. Hannibal stopped the car at the top of the hill, and we heard the dogs reacting to our arrival inside- but neither of us made to move.

Hannibal was the first one to speak again. “Will, I want you to do something for me.”

“Anything,” I replied, a little too quickly, and bit my lip.

“Be careful,” he said. “I feel very… protective of you. And I can’t vouch for my temper. I can’t say what I would do to anyone who intended you harm.”

I should have been scared. Even in that moment, I knew I should have been scared. I wasn’t scared, though. I was excited. And all I see behind my eyes was the vision I’d had, of Hannibal and I covered in blood in the moonlight.

I bit my lip again and nodded, letting myself out of the car. I watched him as he drove down the driveway, watched until he disappeared from sight. And then it occured to me.

I hadn’t told that motherfucker where I live.


	7. Library Tales

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was really only one good explanation for Hannibal knowing where I lived. 
> 
> Hannibal was stalking me.
> 
> Believe me, if there had been another explanation, I would have thought of it. Honestly, the way the motherfucker looked at me (which admittedly I liked), I wouldn’t have been shocked if he’d watched me sleep.

There was really only one good explanation for Hannibal knowing where I lived. 

 

Hannibal was stalking me.

 

Believe me, if there had been another explanation, I would have thought of it. Even if it was something as minor as taking a look at my file at school somehow, there was no way Hannibal would have been able to come by that information through any other method than snooping… or more invasive still, actually following me.

 

Honestly, the way the motherfucker looked at me (which admittedly I liked), I wouldn’t have been shocked if he’d watched me sleep.

 

As it always was with Hannibal, I knew I should be angry. Or frightened. I should have told someone what I suspected. 

 

Of course I had plans to do no such thing. I was going to confront him- make it clear that ‘honoring every part of each other’ in my mind included respecting our privacy- but even the idea that Hannibal Lecter might be camping outside my window every night like a felon couldn’t dim my… admiration for him. It wasn’t enough to make me call whatever was forming between us off.

 

I meant to talk to him as soon as I saw him at school- but I didn’t see him that morning. Not even the Bentley was there. It was glaringly absent in the parking lot, already bright and full of students in the light spring air.

 

Guess Beau was right about that early thaw.

 

Even Beverly was outside, enjoying what must have felt like warm air (after all, these kids had never known a real Southern winter.) She smiled and waved as I made my way over to her.

 

“He’s not here,” she smirked, clearly having already seen me scan the lot for Hannibal. “When the weather’s nice, Dr. Lecter and his wife yank the kids out and take them like, camping and hiking and shit. I tried that on my parents, not even close.”

 

I had never seen five kids less likely to be into camping in my life, with their supernatural poise and their designer clothes. Something about all this seemed… terribly off to me.

 

Alana came to join us, smiling wide. “Beautiful morning, huh?”

 

“If you like sunshine and the promise of winter’s end, yeah.” I responded with what I hoped was a grin. I hadn’t really spoken much to Alana since the dance invitation.

 

“So I suppose you both have heard, but Margot and I are going to the dance next week.” I could feel my smile turn genuine now and hoped it hadn’t been too obviously fake before. They were going to be a really cute couple, I could tell.

 

Beverly offered her a high five, and said, “Finally! When are the Verger-Bloom nuptials going to be?”

 

Alana rolled her eyes. “After college and medical school. And maybe first I should get a dress.” 

 

“We should go tomorrow, all the good dresses might be gone by now. What you doing tomorrow night, Graham?”

 

I felt a pit in my stomach. “Am I giving you a ‘male perspective’ on your dresses?”

 

Beverly grinned up at me like she knew I wouldn’t be able to say no to her. “Yep,” she popped the p when she said it. 

 

“At least buy me dinner.” I said with resignation.

 

“Done,” Alana agreed, just as both their phones went off with an odd, distinct ringtone. They groaned, and pulled them out nearly in unison. “Freddie Lounds strikes again.”

 

The pit in my stomach was now a cavern. “She blasts right to your phones? Did you guys sign up for this or something?”

 

Beverly sighed. “NO. Somehow she has everyone’s numbers. She must be livid if she hasn’t gotten her hands on yours… you might wanna look at it, though.”

 

Of course. I’d known Freddie would have a field day over my display in Science yesterday, but truth be told I’d been too focused on my very handsome stalker to care. I took the offered phone from Beverly’s hand, and prepared myself for the worst.

 

_ “DELICATE SENSIBILITIES - The Showdown for Will Graham.”  _ God, this girl SUCKED at headlines. I was NOT delicate. I was… wiry. Damnit.

 

And of course, she’d somehow gotten a photo of me, being carried bridal style by Hannibal, as Mason raged behind him like some thwarted beta male in a nature documentary. She’d even somehow managed to capture my expression, which was bleary and adoring and thoroughly humiliating.

 

_ “With the big dance around the corner, the battle for Will Graham’s affections is at its peak- rumor has it that he’s received not one, but three invitations to said dance. (He says he’ll be out of town, but we’ll see if he doesn’t make a last minute appearance night-of.) _

 

_ If he does, there can be no doubt on whose arm he’ll be hanging. Yesterday, Chilton Prep’s resident heartthrob hit the floor during blood typing (there’s always one!) Spotted fighting over would would play hero to our damsel in distress? Mason Verger and Hannibal Lecter, of course. I think it’s clear from the photo who Will prefers. They say a picture’s worth a thousand words, but it looks like there’s only ONE thing on pretty boy Graham’s mind. Better luck next time, Mason! _

 

_ XOXO, _

_ Freddie” _

 

The anger that hit me was so instantaneous and hot behind my eyes, I was afraid I had burst a blood vessel.

 

“Vulgar,” I hissed out.

 

Beverly looked sympathetic. “Yeah, unfortunately, it’s kind of her raison d'etre.” Looking at Beverly helped return me to myself, and I felt my clenched hand relax around the phone, the red haze clearing from my eyes. No point in getting mad, there was nothing I could do about it.

 

For the time being.

 

“Yeah, she’s really getting her kicks with this one,” Alana chimed in with a look of disgust. “I bet Mason is furious. That’s twice now he’s looked like a fool next to Hannibal.”

 

“Speaking of Hannibal,” Beverly said with an eyebrow waggle. “What is going ON with you two?”

 

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him  talk to anyone outside his family. Ever,” Alana added, a very slight look of jealousy moving over her face (although whether it was over me, or a old flame for Hannibal, I couldn’t tell.) I really couldn’t blame her, I supposed. A small, dark part of me wanted to burn down anything and anyone Hannibal had ever looked at that wasn’t  _ me _ .

 

Still, I wasn’t exactly sure what to tell them, so I opted with the simple side step. “We’re friends, guys.” 

 

‘Hopefully the kind of friends that make out without shirts on,’ I added only to myself. Both girls scoffed in unison.

 

Thankfully, in a somewhat cliched moment, the bell rang. Beverly groaned and pointed her finger at me while standing. “You’re off the hook for now, Graham.”

 

“Yeah, but remember- we got you all to ourselves tomorrow night. And we are NOT letting you go without getting details!” Alana called over her shoulder as she started to make her way to homeroom.

 

Beverly nudged me lightly as we started in as well. “I know Freddie is annoying, but once things settle down she’ll lose interest. Someone will get caught with drugs, or sleep with their step-sibling, and you and Hannibal will have privacy to do whatever you want,” her tone turned suggestive at the end. Good lord. Like I needed anyone over hearing THAT.

 

“It doesn’t matter, because Hannibal and I are doing nothing,” I retorted. Then I really heard what she’d said. “What, did someone here sleep with their step-sibling?”

 

Beverly grinned wide. “You have NO idea what Chilton Prep is capable of.”

 

*** 

 

The morning passed uneventfully, as they tended to, and I was able to focus through both English and History. This was a fact I think Mr. Ingram resented- apparently having me engaged enough to correct some of his more theatrical claims what not what he had anticipated after having called me out previously. He insisted on pushing the tired- and inaccurate- myth that the Civil War was the ‘bloodiest war in American History.’

 

“Mr. Ingram,” I called out, only raising my hand in the most token manner. “Isn’t is true that only a third of all deaths took place on the battlefield, while the other 400,000 were due to the truly atrocious medical care and infectious diseases that overtook the camps?”

 

The reward of his horrifically blank smile almost made up for the fact that Hannibal wasn’t there. 

 

The bell rang shortly after, and for once I wasn’t dragging Beverly with me in my eagerness to see Hannibal. I couldn’t help my stab of disappointment when I saw their empty table, though, or the flush that came when I looked at the table Hannibal and I had occupied yesterday. 

 

Even fancy Chilton Prep cafeteria food was going to be a disappointment after tasting Hannibal Lecter’s cooking.

 

Brian, Jimmy, Beverly, Margot, Alana and I all sat and commiserated over the dreariness that was high school existence (honestly it was like government mandated sleepwalking for four years.) Everyone was sympathetic about The Tattle Crime blast, and Alana and Margot shared little looks and knee touches that reminded me of Hannibal. I couldn’t help my eyes from gravitating towards the empty Lecter table… except I could also feel another set of eyes on me. Considering Hannibal’s absence, this was unexpected.

 

I moved my eyes around the room, trying to see who might be looking at me… and I shouldn’t have been surprised to find the beady, rat-like eyes of Mason Verger. He looked at me like he was hungry- and not in a good way. Not like how Hannibal looked at me.

 

Mason Verger was looking at me like a wolf looks at a rabbit. Clearly, Tattle Crime was getting under his skin as well.

 

A sinking feeling started to fill my stomach. Science was fine, I could avoid him in Science. But with gym coming up, I knew the chances of a confrontation were high. And it’s not that I was frightened of Mason Verger. I wasn’t. He was a predator, that was for sure… but he was also a coward. I could handle Mason Verger. 

 

I just didn’t want to.

 

I contemplated Hannibal’s advice from yesterday… maybe skipping class COULD be good for your health.

 

***

 

Jimmy and I walked to Science, which made it easy to avoid Mason, as did the assigned seating. The next part was a bit tricky, but I was fairly certain I would have a willing accomplice in Georgia Machen.

 

As soon as the class ended, I made a beeline for her, feeling Mason’s eyes crawling on me the whole time. “Hey Georgia!” I greeted with a smile. It wasn’t fake- I really did like her.

 

She smiled back, tucking a strand of her pretty strawberry blonde hair behind her ear. “Hey, Will! What’s up?”

 

“Nothing much- I was hoping I could walk you to your next class, if you don’t mind? What do you have?”

 

Her smile widened as she gathered up her books. “I got Komeda. And of course!” I stole a glance at Mason out of the corner of my eye- I could see him glowering, but he seemed resigned. Likely he thought he’d just corner me at the next class.

 

‘That’s what you think, sucker,’ I thought to myself and grinned as Georgia and I left the room.

 

“So, actually, I wanted to ask you something… if you don’t think it’s too weird?” Georgia started as soon as we were out of earshot of the other students.

 

“Shoot.”

 

“I was wondering if you knew if Brian was going with anyone to the dance? Like I know he’s tight with Jimmy and Beverly, but it doesn’t seem like he’s WITH either of them, so I thought-”

 

“I think you should go for it.” Honestly, I wasn’t sure why it hadn’t crossed my mind before. Brian was friendly and funny, and a perfect match for shy, sweet Georgia. Although she couldn’t be that shy, if she was this intent on finding a date…

 

I looked sideways at Georgia, absorbing the fact that my shy, sweet new friend was probably thirsty as hell.

 

It’s always the quiet ones.

 

By the time I dropped her at Ms. Komeda’s classroom, the hallways were already thinning out- which was good, because it seemed unlikely the Tattle Crime would be able to track my next move.

 

I made my way down the hall, to a room I knew of but had never been in. A room famous for keeping the secrets of students safe.

 

The library.

 

***

 

‘Well, this library will certainly be keeping my secret,’ I thought as the door settled closed behind me.

 

There was not a soul in sight, other than a librarian who looked as though she had been young when dinosaurs roamed the earth. She didn’t even look up as I came in, leading me to believe she didn’t hear it.

 

This was going to be easier than I thought.

 

I moved quietly around, trying to find the natural history section, but the books seemed to be arranged in some new system I was unfamiliar with- St. Rose had used the Dewey Decimal system. I had gotten distracted in what appeared to be Social Sciences- specifically a section on the dead religion of psychoanalysis- when I voice from behind startled me.

 

“Well, as I live and breathe, if it isn’t the infamous Will Graham?” I whirled around to face a shorter boy, handsome in a very Dead Poets Society specific sort of way. His brown hair was combed back, and the uniform looked like he had been born in it. There was a supercilious sneer to his lips I knew I should find off-putting, but it was pair with a air of vulnerability and uncertainty that tempered his unlikable edge. He might grow to be pompous, one day, but right now there was just a kid putting on a front. 

 

I raised an eyebrow at him, and he offered his hand. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me. Frederick.”

 

The name fired in my brain, familiar. “Chilton?”

 

“I see our reputations precede both of us.” He smiled slightly. “Am I to assume you’re avoiding your fan club?”

 

“I don’t have a fan club, Frederick.”

 

“I would beg to differ, but since we’re both here, we might as well keep each other company. Old lady 

Heimlich hasn’t been able to hear in years, we won’t be disturbing her.” I could sense his loneliness, and despite feeling I should avoid him, I figured it couldn’t kill me to talk to him for an hour.

 

We sat at a nook by a window, the pale early spring sunlight fill the small space. “So tell me,” he began, “Are you really dating Hannibal Lecter?”

 

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe this would kill me. “I am not dating anyone, Frederick. Hannibal and I are having conversations.”

 

Frederick smiled knowingly. “I see. In any case, I just ask because I was going over some of the old school records, and I’ve been wanting to ask him about something- he never talks to anyone outside his family, however, so I’ve never gotten the chance.”  

 

Jealousy surged through me for a moment, before I took in his earnest if slightly smug face and read nothing nefarious there, just… curiosity, as he said. So I shrugged my shoulders and offered, “I can’t say I know the answer to your question, Frederick, but I can tell you I’m intrigued.”

 

Frederick’s smile turned pleased and pointed. “I wanted to ask if he’s a vampire.” He paused for effect. “You see, I was going through some of the old school records, for information on my own family, when what should I come across than enrollment information for a Mischa and Hannibal Lecter, from 1871. About their same ages too. I was curious if there was any relation, and if so how they found their back to Lithuania and back. Such distinct names, you’ll agree.”

 

This was interesting. I didn’t know very much about Lithuanian history- just a vague impression of a Russian occupation- and it’s not like Hannibal and spoken to be about it. We were still very firmly in the, ‘If you brush against me, I will die from want also are you maybe stalking me’ stage of our courtship.

 

“Seem likely there’d be a relation, but I don’t know anymore about it than you do, Frederick.” I paused, then on impulse said, “But if they’re the same people, he looks really good for 170.”

 

“Would you mind satisfying my curiosity on one more front, then?” Frederick asked. “What ARE you doing the night of the dance?” I scowled at him lightly, and he chuckled before continuing. “Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not throwing my hat into the ring myself- I’ve seen the way Hannibal looks at you, it’s as if he could eat you. I don’t mean literally, of course. Cannibalism always better suited towards westward bound in this country- although, I suppose Jamestown WAS the first American incident, and that’s not too far from here…”

 

Frederick’s voice faded from the front-bone of my brain as an image of Hannibal- the image from my dream, from my vision- barrelled into my vision over and over. Hannibal covered in blood. Covered in blood in the moonlight. Holding a human like figure.

 

No, not human-like.

 

Human.

 

I shook myself, and forced my focus to return to Frederick. It was just a weird thought. Just one of those weird, intrusive thoughts everyone keeps, not just boy detectives who hunt monsters.

 

Because Hannibal just COULDN’T be a cannibal.

 

Could he?

 


	8. Dreamscape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I felt no surprise when Hannibal stepped out from behind a large tree, powerful form slightly hunched over, menacing and beautiful at the same time. Covered in blue-black blood, his elegant clothes ruined but somehow it only made him look all the more breathtaking. I didn’t register myself as moving until I was in front of him, hands tangling in his blood-soaked shirt. Crimson adorned his face, but rather than upset me, I felt something in me uncoil in recognition. 
> 
> “You’re mine,” I realized. My fingers brushed beneath his clothing, over the flesh that belong to me.
> 
> “Yes,” Hannibal breathed out. Then his unnaturally strong arms were around me, and I was pinned solidly between Hannibal and the tree he had emerged from behind. One hand was possessive on my hip, the other tilting my mouth towards his as he hissed, “And you’re MINE.” 
> 
> And then he sealed our fates by putting his mouth on mine.

I couldn’t shake the pendulum swing of a vision I’d had earlier of Hannibal. I’d never had a… hunch, for lack of a better word, that hadn’t turned out to be right, at least in some way. And Hannibal COULDN’T be what I thought.

 

He just couldn’t.

 

I told Beau I had a headache, so I wouldn’t have to sit through the small talk we normally both felt obliged to perform. Luckily, there was a baseball game that he was excited about- sports were one of the few things Beau and I differed on. He thought they were fascinating, and I thought they were primeval experiments in domination. However, tonight I was grateful for their existence, as it meant Beau wouldn’t be directing his insight on to me. 

 

Once in my room, I didn’t bother locking the door- Beau would never intrude on my privacy, and if anyone ELSE would, let's be honest it’s not like I wasn’t kind of a willing victim when it came to Hannibal Lecter.

 

I tried to lie down on the bed and empty my thoughts, like the police shrink had told me to do once, but it was impossible to escape the revelatory pendulum swing inside my own mind. I was haunted by the murderous images, Hannibal bold and beautiful in the moonlight, covered in blue-black blood. Me in his arms. Nothing around us but forest and night. In an act of desperation, I took my phone, put in my headphones, and chose the stuffiest of classical music. Thankfully, it worked- you can’t exist in contradictory states simultaneously, and the relaxing timbre of the music slowly erased the pendulum swing, one note at a time. I wasn’t even aware of when I fell asleep.

 

When I opened my eyes again, I knew I was dreaming. I was in the woods of Wolf Trap. I could hear the sound of water running over stone, slow and steady. I was trying to find the stream, knew that it would lead me where I wanted to go- but then Frederick was there, scared and pleading with his large blue eyes. “We have to go back, Will! We have to run.”

 

“Why, Frederick? What’s wrong?” Despite Frederick’s wild terror, I couldn’t pull myself away from the darkness of the forest. I knew something was waiting in there for me. 

 

“You have to run, Will- run or it will be too late!” I heard heavy, clumsy footfall and knew he was leaving me, but I couldn’t bring myself to be frightened. Not when my destiny was so close. 

 

I felt no surprise when Hannibal stepped out from behind a large tree, powerful form slightly hunched over, menacing and beautiful at the same time. Covered in blue-black blood, his elegant clothes ruined but somehow it only made him look all the more breathtaking. I didn’t register myself as moving until I was in front of him, hands tangling in his blood-soaked shirt. Crimson adorned his face, but rather than upset me, I felt something in me uncoil in recognition. 

 

“You’re mine,” I realized. My fingers brushed beneath his clothing, over the flesh that belong to  _ me _ .

 

“Yes,” Hannibal breathed out. Then his unnaturally strong arms were around me, and I was pinned solidly between Hannibal and the tree he had emerged from behind. One hand was possessive on my hip, the other tilting my mouth towards his as he hissed, “And you’re  _ MINE _ .” 

 

And then he sealed our fates by putting his mouth on mine. 

 

God, it was  _ beautiful _ . It was slow, molten heat, and something wild in me answered. My arms folded around him, clinging to him, and my legs parted to allow his thigh to slide in between them. One leg came up around his hips, pulling him towards me like eddies in the water. One of his hands tangled into my hair, slotting my mouth against his at a new angle, while his tongue slipped between my lips, asking for access which I all too eagerly granted. He tasted of blood, and winter fog. His other hand found the small of my back, and I bucked against him, so painfully hard. I felt his own answering desire pressing against my belly, and I gasped against him.

 

“You’re mine,” he said again as I continued trying to breath. He looked at me fiercely, like I was a revelation, adoring and avowing all at once.

 

“I’m yours,” I agreed, as he dragged my mouth back to his to continue to kiss me. His hand moved from the small of my back, and he grabbed one ass cheek firmly, pressing me against him as he rolled his hips against mine. I returned the motion, and soon our kisses were frantic as we rutted against each other, desperate and hard and covered in blood. A faint glimmering of moonlight shaded his beautiful face through the overheard of the barren trees. His other hand ghosted over every part of me, exploring and claiming, and causing my skin to erupt in delicious, delirious hot-cold gooseflesh.

 

Though I was aware it was winter-cool out, I hardly felt the chill as he unbuttoned my coat, my shirt, my pants. The only thing I was aware of were his lips, his hand cupping my ass, our cocks rubbing together- until his other hand pulled my erection from my pants, and then my world became only the touch of his hand and his red-brown eyes. 

 

I gazed at him, shocked, aroused, wanting. His possessive gaze captured mine like he would never let me go now that he had me. “Please,” I begged, not even sure what I was asking for. For him to stop?

 

For him to never stop?

 

His gorgeous, crimson stained mouth smiled down at me, as he pumped my cock once, twice, three times. His sharp teeth bite down on his bottom lip, and then he had both of us in his hand, hardness against hardness, pumping them together. I began to thrust into his hold, eyes never leaving his, the pace getting faster and faster. I heard the soft whimpers and moans I was making, was aware I was begging, pleading with him, and so close, so agonizingly close. I needed a release that only Hannibal could give me.

 

He leaned his forehead onto mine, hot breath caressing my face. His lips ghosted over mine, not quite touching, as he panted in a voice like honeyed butter, “Do you trust me?”

 

“I do, I trust you,” I cried out, and I did. I would fall over a cliff for Hannibal Lecter.

 

He kissed me softly then, a contrast to how hard and fast we were rutting against each other- and then those sharp, beautiful teeth buried themselves in my neck. Hard.

 

My eyes were wide open, but all I could see was a red haze. Hannibal suckled at the wound in my neck, his fist moving over us with such strength and desire, I felt myself tensing up and the sensation that I was going to spill over like oil pervaded my body, and I ducked my head to bite down hard on his jugular-

 

When I awoke in my own bed, sweating and painfully hard, my vision blurred at the edges from the unbearable need for release. I took myself in my own hand, and pictured Hannibal crying out and covering my hand with his come as I tasted his blood on my tongue. I bite my lip to keep from crying out as I finally, finally reached that peak I’d been climbing towards, vision white-hot and longing to reach out and feel Hannibal beside me. 

 

I flopped back on the bed, breathing hard. 

 

What. The. Fuck.

 

What kind of  _ dream _ was that?

 

I knew I wanted Hannibal. Hell, I think everyone knew I wanted Hannibal. And I had always known I was a bit… odd. But wanting to make out with your crush while covered in blood was a LOT of weird. Like ‘I should talk to a doctor’ level of weird. 

 

I glanced at the clock- 4:00am. Too early to get up, but it’s not like I was going to be able to get back to sleep after spanking my bank to that. I decided I’d at least be productive, and got up to let the dogs out (after carefully cleaning myself up and changing into clean clothes- I didn’t want to walk around Beau’s house like that, after all.)

 

Beau was normally up around 5:00am, so it wasn’t much of a disruption for the dogs- I put on Beau’s old boots and headed out with them, the darkness of the woods offering both an old comfort and a new attraction.

 

Why did I keep seeing Hannibal like that? And how did his strange, remote family fit in? What about the story Frederick had told me, of a Mischa and Hannibal from many years ago?

 

The pieces were all swirling around my head, and I could feel them wanting to fit together, but something was stopping me from seeing. Were my feelings for Hannibal clouding my judgement? Or was all that time inside the minds of others finally starting to eat away at me? Was I projecting dark desires buried in the back of my mind onto Hannibal?

 

I tried to think of things objectively. Hannibal had warned he was dangerous. His family was strange, kept to themselves. Tobias was obviously violent, filled with a rage that threatened to overtake him at any moment. Hannibal knew things he shouldn’t know. The family was incredibly close-knit. Hannibal was strong, and inhumanely fast. The Lecter family has roots here, roots that weren’t common knowledge.

 

What did all this mean, though?

 

As the dogs and I tramped around the edge of the property, a phrase came to me that I’d read about in my criminal studies- a folie au deux.

 

Shared Psychotic Disorder, is what the DSM-5 called it. It could be between a couple, but it also happened in families. Tended to run in families, in fact. Particularly close families. Close, strange families, that shared unconventional values.

 

Criminal families especially showed such traits. 

 

I swallowed hard. What if Hannibal was being made to participate in something he didn’t want to? What if it wasn’t Hannibal himself that was dangerous, but his family? I could certainly see how an outside influence like me would be a threat. No wonder Tobias hated me. Anything that interfered with the family influence was a danger to the ecosystem.

 

I ran through all the cases I’d ever read about in my mind- cannibalism wasn’t typically a feature. But it wasn’t as though cannibalism was totally taboo across history and cultures- many cultures practiced some sort of ritualized cannibalism over the years. And what is a family if not a small cultural unit?

 

The pieces were starting to come together, but they still weren’t quite right. Then, just as the sky started to shift from black to dark grey, an old, archaic article I’d read a year or so ago came to me- something about the Wendigo Psychosis. A rare and startling disorder that causes its victims to crave human flesh. Also supposedly totally made up. But still, it got me thinking...

 

Could the Lecter family be caught in the grips of some sort of shared, murderous madness? 

 

I shook myself out of my dark contemplations Maybe it was just my imagination on overdrive, pushed into excitability by being stagnant. It had been a long, long time since I hadn’t been on a case. 

 

The dogs started to head back to the house of their own accord, and I realized how long I must have been out there. The sun was starting to show itself, and it looked like the day ahead would be bright and warm for early spring. Disappointment flooded me as I realized I likely wouldn’t see Hannibal today, either. 

 

And I needed to see Hannibal. Not just because I wanted him. Not just because he was the only person I felt could  _ see _ me. I needed Hannibal because in the midst of all this strangeness, he was the only thing that could make me feel grounded. I had began to need Hannibal like a boat needs an anchor. 

 

That was the thought that made up my mind. In the end, it didn’t matter what Hannibal was. He could tell me he was dangerous, he could warn me off all he liked… but I was in too deep now. Whatever madness Hannibal was wrapped up in, it couldn’t keep me away. I wanted nothing more than to merge with Hannibal Lecter.

 

The decision was made, and it was easy.

 

Dangerously easy.


End file.
